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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23249689">The Gunslinger Chronicles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Sad_Hatter/pseuds/The_Sad_Hatter'>The_Sad_Hatter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Gunslinger Chronicles [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Deadpool - All Media Types, Fantastic Four, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A Bucky x Reader Story, Alcohol Abuse, But it's an intricate slow burn, Death, F/F, F/M, Gore, Hurt feelings, Multi, Reader has other relationships along the way, There's a lot of humour as well, Trigger Warnings, bisexual reader, chaotic reader, extreme violence, mental health</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 16:00:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>39,041</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23249689</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Sad_Hatter/pseuds/The_Sad_Hatter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“There was a rule in Shield. Never send in The Gunslinger unless the situations already gone south. She’s a ‘break glass in case of emergency’ kind of agent. Or she was.” Natasha elaborated.  </p><p>“What is she now?” Steve asked.  </p><p>“A fucking corpse is what she’s supposed to be. We thought she went down with The Triskelion, found her body and everything. Even fooled me and Nat.” Clint sighed.  </p><p>Steve tilted his head at Natasha questioningly and she shrugged like it was no big deal, but there was a flicker of darkness in her eyes that betrayed her nonchalant attitude.  </p><p>“Ok, so why the Gunslinger? Not that it isn’t a cool name, but why?” Sam asked.  </p><p>“Because every mission she did was like the Wild West. She wasn’t refined or precise, but she was damn good at fucking shit up. Give that woman a gun and a day, she’d create enough anarchy to bring down a small country.” Clint snorted.  </p><p>“And she’s a crack-shot. She is to a gun what Clint is to a bow and arrow.” Natasha added.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gun/Bazooka, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Loki/Reader, Natasha Romanov/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Gunslinger Chronicles [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1671640</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>433</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Brief Haunting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The Reader in this story is unamed, her real name is never said aloud (her real name is whatever your name is) but because I don't like using Y/N, I give my readers nicknames. This one is called 'Gun'. </p><p>There are minimal physical descriptions and only in a story context e.g: she let her hair grow out in a flashback. </p><p>This is a re-upload of a story I previously deleted due to bullying. Chapter 1-8 are the re-upload, Chapter 9 and onwards are all new content.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He was more than used to being unseen in a crowd, the trick to being truly unnoticed was to never act like you were afraid of being seen. But if there was one place where a man like him was going to be unnoticed. People here had seen much weirder than the likes of him, it was a city with a beating heart of eccentricity, it thrived off of the macabre and strange. There was an electricity to the atmosphere, charging the night with an frantic energy. Now he knew this was where she was, he could understand why. If there were ever a place for the Gunslinger to settle down, it would be New Orleans.</p><p> </p><p>Raucous tourists and locals alike passed him by, not paying attention as he stood in the shadows, across the street from the small bar. It wasn’t a fancy place, it tread the line between worn down and cosy, and through the blue stained glass window, he could see you behind the bar, moving with ease.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve got eyes on the target. Engaging now.” He spoke aloud.</p><p> </p><p>In a few moments he had crossed the street and pushed the heavy wooden door to the bar open. You didn’t even look up at him.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re technically closed, but there’s some Gumbo left in the pot if you want to take a seat.” You called out, wiping down the bar top with a cloth.</p><p> </p><p>“Does it come with a drink?” He asked.</p><p> </p><p>You shook your head and huffed out a bitter laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“Should have known I wouldn’t be lucky enough to go the rest of my life without seeing you again.” You scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“We aren’t in the business of luck.” He reminded you.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not in the business at all anymore.” <em>You </em>reminded <em>him.</em></p><p> </p><p>And then you finally looked up from the bar and laid eyes on your former boss.</p><p> </p><p>“Fury, you son of a bitch.”</p><p> </p><p>“You gonna keep cussing me out, or can I have that Gumbo I was promised?”</p><p> </p><p>You rolled your eyes and tossed the towel over your shoulder, waving him towards a table as you tread into the kitchen and spooned up a piping hot bowl for him.</p><p> </p><p>“Here. Our chef is one of the finest in the City so Bon’ Appetite. Eat up, and then get the hell out of my bar.” You instructed.</p><p> </p><p>“Your not even going to ask why I’m here?” He enquired, pulling the bowl closer.</p><p> </p><p>“I know why you’re here Fury.” You snapped.</p><p> </p><p>He made a low noise of appreciation as he chewed his meal and gave you a considering look.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s time you get back in the game Agent.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why’s that?” You asked sarcastically.</p><p> </p><p>“Because the world needs people like you, always has, but now more than ever.” He reminded.</p><p> </p><p>“The worlds got Iron Man and Captain America, it doesn’t need a drunk girl with a gun.” You argued.</p><p> </p><p>“No, it needs a woman with nothing left to lose and an innate desire to do the right thing. That’s you.” He rebutted.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re half right, I got nothing left to lose but I’ve got nothing left to give either. I’m out of the game Fury, have been for years and yet I still sleep with a gun under my pillow and wake up in a cold sweat. And you’re asking me to go back in? Hell no.” You told him tightly, grinding your teeth.</p><p> </p><p>“You did the impossible, you did what nobody would have ever expected you to do, you got out. I respect that, I do, but we both know you aren’t the retirement type.” He said.</p><p> </p><p>“I know people used to take bets on how long I’d live. Nobody expected me to live long enough to get out, I didn’t expect it. But the opportunity came and I took it, and I am never going back.” You vowed.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re telling me you don’t miss it?” He scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“Not a bit.” You said without hesitation, walking back behind the bar and pouring him a drink.</p><p> </p><p>“So the cartel smuggling ships that exploded with several million dollars’ worth of cocaine bound for this city on them three days ago, that had nothing to do with you?” He asked wryly.</p><p> </p><p>“If people are snorting, they aren’t drinking. It was business decision, nothing altruistic about it.” You lied, sliding the glass towards him.</p><p> </p><p>“Bullshit. Bull. Shit.” He snorted, calling you out.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not coming back. I’m just not. Meals on the house Nick, and don’t come back. Ever.” </p><p> </p><p>He didn’t answer, just continued eating his Gumbo in silence. It was terse and strained, and you let out a relieved breath when he finally finished and stood up.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, I tried, but I can see you won’t be changing your mind. Have a good life agent.” He said, putting a twenty down on the bar and walking out without another word.</p><p> </p><p>You stared after him, waiting for the door to swing back open, but it didn’t. You didn’t believe that was the end of it, Nick Fury was not a man who gave up so easily. When you bolted the door shut and turned around to see the file sitting on the chair he had occupied, you realised you were right.</p><p> </p><p>“Motherfucker.” You muttered, picking it up and going to toss it in the fireplace in the Kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>But you hesitated. You held it over the flames until your hand grew too warm and you either had to drop the file, or move it away from the fire.</p><p> </p><p>You couldn’t not look, like Fury had known. You needed to know what was in it, what was so important that he came to get you after all this time. With trepidation you flicked through the file, reading the pages by the flickering firelight.</p><p> </p><p>One hour later you opened the car door and tossed your duffle bag inside, piling in after it.</p><p> </p><p>“I hate you.” You hissed at the driver.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.” She said, looking over at you.</p><p> </p><p>“I hate Fury more.” You added as an afterthought.</p><p> </p><p>“I know that too. Welcome back Agent.” Maria smirked.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>~~~The Next Day~~~</p><p> </p><p>“I’m getting tired of all these evil organizations all the time, hopefully we get some Aliens next time, mix things up a bit.” Sam called, weaving through the sky and effortlessly avoiding the gunfire aimed at him.</p><p> </p><p>“I hate to point out the obvious, but we are barely getting through these guys.” Tony sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Fury and Hill are en-route with backup. We just need to hold them off a little longer.” Steve remined everyone.</p><p> </p><p>Tony was right though. The heavily fortified AIM base was proving a tough one to crack, for every line of defence the disabled, there were three dozen more soldiers to greet them.</p><p> </p><p>“We need to get inside and get that virus before they pick us off.” Clint supplied helpfully.</p><p> </p><p>“Clint’s right. If you can step up the firefight, we can try and sneak in to retrieve the virus.” Natasha agreed.</p><p> </p><p>Steve brought up his shield in time to block a spray of bullets, and out of the corner of his eyes he saw the Archer duck and weave his way closer to the building, nocking a blinking arrow in his bow. With perfect aim as usual, the arrow buried itself next to the electronic keypad.</p><p> </p><p>And nothing happened.</p><p> </p><p>“Keypads a fake.” Clint grumbled.</p><p> </p><p>“Hawk, watch out!” Sam yelled, a split second to late.</p><p> </p><p>The door opened from the inside and a half dozen armed gunmen poured out. They were too far away for Steve to hit them with the shield, so he did the next best thing and tossed it to Clint at the same moment they pulled the triggers on their weapons.</p><p> </p><p>Clint was stood in the line of fire, with nowhere to go, and Natasha was running for him but even if she made it in time, there was nothing she could do.</p><p> </p><p>Time seemed to slow to an almost halt as Steve ran through every possible tactical manoeuvre in his head.</p><p> </p><p>Three things happened at once, Clint caught the shield, Natasha dove behind it with him and fired into the cluster of enemies, and somehow, there was a rapid succession of gunshots before every enemy but one dropped to the ground.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m getting real tired of saving your ass, Hawk.” A woman’s voice said in his ear, floating through the comms.</p><p> </p><p>Clint whirled around in shock, his face draining of colour.</p><p> </p><p>“You have got the be fucking kidding me. Gun??” Clint stammered.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha looked shocked, for the briefest of seconds, almost like she’d just seen a ghost. But then she blinked and the shock was gone and her lips were twisting up into a smirk.</p><p> </p><p>“What about my ass?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Watching your ass is always a pleasure, in any capacity, Red. Move it about three inches to the left for me.”</p><p> </p><p>Natasha neatly stepped to the side with an expectant look and a split second later, a bullet whizzed by her, planting itself in the skull of the last gunman.</p><p> </p><p>“Atta girl.” The strange new voice commended.</p><p> </p><p>“Someone needs to explain what the hell just happened.” Tony demanded.</p><p> </p><p>“I promised back-up, don’t say I never do anything for you.” Fury said through the comms.</p><p> </p><p>“Merry fucking Christmas boys and girls.” The woman said.</p><p> </p><p>“Fury?” Steve questioned.</p><p> </p><p>“Captain. Have you found a way inside yet?” Fury asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Not yet. All the doors are heavily guarded.” Steve frowned, putting aside the mystery of the newcomer.</p><p> </p><p>“Somehow I don’t think that’s a problem anymore.” Natasha shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“If you can’t open a door, make one.” The woman suggested.</p><p> </p><p>“Agent….” Fury said warningly.</p><p> </p><p>There was a beat of silence on the comms while Clint tossed the shied back and Steve in turn tossed it into a soldiers torso.</p><p> </p><p>“Everybody down.” Fury sighed exasperatedly.</p><p> </p><p>They all dove for cover, looking around in curiosity at the same time. There was a low rumbling sound that grew louder by the second, until Steve recognised the roar of an engine.</p><p> </p><p>A black motorbike flew into view, a dark-suited woman astride it. He watched in trepidation as she steered it towards an overturned truck and sped up. Using the broken side of the truck as a makeshift ramp, she zoomed up it and into the air. The bike sailed towards the building, with the woman throwing herself off of it and landing on the ground in a painful looking duck and roll. She took cover behind the truck as the bike crashed into the wall of the building and exploded in a fiery inferno.</p><p> </p><p>“Did she rig the bike with explosives?!” Tony demanded excitedly as the smoke cleared and revealed a hole in the wall.</p><p> </p><p>“She did. Red, Birdy, go get the danger juice.” The woman purred.</p><p> </p><p>“Do what she says, we’ll cover you.” Steve ordered.</p><p> </p><p>Clint and Natasha ran for the building, slowing for a brief second as the passed the woman. He could see the disbelieving looks they gave her and her nonchalant shrug, before the two carefully and quickly climbed through the door she’d made for them.</p><p> </p><p>Steve had a lot of questions, but he put them to one side as he set about taking down as many AIM soldiers as he could, the newcomer stepping into the fray with ease as she pulled two guns from her belt and started firing off shots with impressive accuracy. He slowly but surely made his way over to her, only by the time he got to the truck, she was gone.</p><p> </p><p>“Fury, where’s your agent?” He asked worriedly.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t bother Cap, she’s long gone.” Natasha said coldly into the comms.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha was right. All that was left of the woman was the trail of bodies she’d left behind, but her help had allowed Natasha and Clint to retrieve the virus, and The Avengers managed to leave the scene with no casualties and having completed their objective.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t until they were back on the Quinjet and Natasha had carefully sealed the vial containing the virus in a container that he asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Who was that?”</p><p> </p><p>“Seconded.” Tony added.</p><p> </p><p>“Thirded, and is she single.” Sam put in.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha and Clint exchanged an unreadable look with each other before Clint answered.</p><p> </p><p>“An old friend of Fury’s. Someone we never expected to see again.” He said tersely.</p><p> </p><p>“Shield Agent?” Sam asked.</p><p> </p><p>“No way, she’s too messy to be a shield agent. Effective, cool, but messy.” Tony argued.</p><p> </p><p>“She was an Agent actually. Agent 12 – The Gunslinger.” Clint sighed, sounding exhausted.</p><p> </p><p>“There was a rule in Shield. Never send in The Gunslinger unless the situations already gone south. She’s a ‘break glass in case of emergency’ kind of agent. Or she was.” Natasha elaborated.</p><p> </p><p>“What is she now?” Steve asked.</p><p> </p><p>“A fucking corpse is what she’s supposed to be. We thought she went down with The Triskelion, found her body and everything, even fooled me and Nat.” Clint sighed.</p><p> </p><p>Steve tilted his head at Natasha questioningly and she shrugged like it was no big deal, but there was a flicker of darkness in her eyes that betrayed her nonchalant attitude.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, so why the Gunslinger? Not that it isn’t a cool name, but why?” Sam asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Because every mission she did was like the Wild West. She wasn’t refined or precise, but she was damn good at fucking shit up. Give that woman a gun and a single day, and she’d create enough anarchy to bring down a small country.” Clint snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“And she’s a crack shot. She is with a gun what Clint is with a bow and arrow.” Natasha added.</p><p> </p><p>“I visit her grave once a year and pour a bottle of Jack on it. Nice to know it was for nothing.” Clint said coldly.</p><p> </p><p>“She was never the same after Mexico, we should have seen this coming.” Natasha said softly.</p><p> </p><p>“What happened in Mexico?” Steve asked sharply. </p><p> </p><p>“Something bad. Bad enough that Shield burned every file related to the case, they didn’t just bury them. She went alone and came back with a closet full of ghosts, wouldn’t talk about it.” Clint sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that why I never crossed paths with her?” Steve wondered.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha and Clint shared a semi-amused look.</p><p> </p><p>“AIM warehouse in the Alps?” Natasha prompted. </p><p> </p><p>“We got the prisoners out and you called in an air-strike to dispose of the base.” Steve checked.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s the one.” Clint confirmed.</p><p> </p><p>“You told command to go for the nuclear option.” Steve remembered.</p><p> </p><p>Realization dawned on him.</p><p> </p><p>“It wasn’t an airstrike, was it?” He sighed.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha and Clint shook their heads in unison.</p><p> </p><p>“Remember the day someone set of a smoke bomb in Fury’s office and the fire alarms went off?” Clint sniggered.</p><p> </p><p>“That was her?” Steve gaped.</p><p> </p><p>“Hill wouldn’t sign off on some new equipment for her, so she decided to show Maria that <em>not</em> giving her the stuff would be more costly than just getting it. Fury gave her the weapons and stuck her on Arctic duty for three months.” Clint said, the admiration shining in his voice.</p><p> </p><p>“I think Fury and Hill went out of their way to make sure you two never actually met, I think they were worried about what would happen when chaotic good met chaotic neutral.” Natasha shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Meaning you’re a reckless dumbass cap, and sounds like she was as well.” Sam snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“So she’s not dead, and Fury pulled her in to help us with this mission. Why now?” Steve asked, studiously ignoring Sam.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe he thought it was time. That she was ready to come back.” Clint suggested.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t say he was wrong. Girl kicked ass.” Sam pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m more concerned with when and if we’ll be seeing her again.” Steve said.</p><p> </p><p>“I hope so.” Sam muttered quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“She left without saying hello, never mind goodbye. I don’t think we’ll be seeing her again.” Clint shrugged, keeping his expression purposefully blank.</p><p> </p><p>Steve noticed how Natasha purposefully kept quiet.</p><p> </p><p>~~~That Evening~~~</p><p> </p><p>You were somehow both surprised and unsurprised to find your old apartment in the City exactly as you had left it. Albeit, a bit more dusty, but everything was still in the same place. The only people who knew about it were Fury, and Natasha. The former would have only found out about it after you ‘died’ because you’d left it to her in your will. The system still accepted your retinal scan and let you in, so perhaps Natasha hadn’t even come here.</p><p> </p><p>You wondered if Clint had ever used the Cabin in the Canadian Rockies he’d been bequeathed.</p><p> </p><p>You didn’t have a lot to put in a will, except safehouses and offshore accounts. Nothing personal, but that was the life of a secret agent. And you didn’t have anyone to leave anything to, except your fellow Agents.</p><p> </p><p>You’d had dalliances with firefights and violence since your ‘retirement’, but nothing like the adrenaline fuelled battle you’d been in today. It was strange, how easily you slipped back into the skin of The Gunslinger. You were still thrumming with it, hours later. Or maybe it was anticipation that was making your skin vibrate.</p><p> </p><p>You’d showered and cleared away the dust and cobwebs of your old home, now all that was left to do was to wait. She would come, she had to. You had a lot to answer for and Natasha wasn’t one to let someone off the hook.</p><p> </p><p>You were right, she did come for you. She was in the room and only a few feet away before she made her presence known, allowing her reflection to be caught in the window you were staring out of.</p><p> </p><p>“Long time no see, Red.” You smirked.</p><p> </p><p>She said nothing as you turned to face her, your body tense, your muscles tight.</p><p> </p><p>“Looking a little on edge there, fight or flight instinct kicking in?” She asked idly, looking you over.</p><p> </p><p>“Fight or something else beginning with F…” You whispered breathily into the empty space between you.</p><p> </p><p>There was a slight twitch on her lips, so minute that you wouldn’t have picked up on it if you didn’t know her. But you did know her, you knew her better than you knew almost anybody else. You crossed the space left between you both until you were dangerously close to her, so close your breath moved her hair when you spoke.</p><p> </p><p>“Is this the part where you kill me?” You asked cheekily.</p><p> </p><p>“Kill, or something else beginning with K…” She shot back.</p><p> </p><p>“Tease.” You smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“What makes you think I’m only teasing?”</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t blur those lines, never have and never will.”</p><p> </p><p>“You obliterated a lot of lines when you left a dead body for me to find and let me bury it in your grave.” She said, her voice soft but her tone hard.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you miss me Red? Did you mourn me? Did you shed a tear for me when nobody was looking?” You asked.</p><p> </p><p>Your words sounded cruel, vicious even, but you knew she wouldn’t read them that way. The question was genuine. Had Natasha Romanoff really cried for you?</p><p> </p><p>“I was waiting for you that day, waiting to hear your voice over the comms, waiting for a well placed bullet to save my ass. I kept waiting, kept looking, but you never showed up. Shield fell that day and I thought you fell with it, and yes, I mourned. I forgave you for not showing up because I thought you’d died fighting off Hydra, but the truth was you just used the chaos to serve your own purpose, not caring who you left behind.” She admonished, her words cutting you to the bone.</p><p> </p><p>You had no defence, because that’s exactly what had happened. You had jumped into action as soon as Captain America’s voice had sounded the call to arms, and you had spilt Hydra blood. And then you had left a dead traitor who looked enough like you in your place, burned the room and switched your dental records with hers before you disappeared.</p><p> </p><p>“I saw a way out, and I took it. I needed to escape it all Red, I needed to get away, with no ties, because if anyone knew I was alive I knew I’d be dragged back into the thick of it.” You told her unapologetically.</p><p> </p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>There was no anger in her eyes, no pity, just a deep, tired understanding.  </p><p> </p><p>“Fury knew, even I can’t fool him apparently, and he knew all the right buttons to push to drag me back. So now what?” You asked, a hint of challenge in your voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Have you come back to life, or is this just a brief haunting?”</p><p> </p><p>“I had it good Red, carved out a life for myself off the map and actually lived it. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine.” You told her.</p><p> </p><p>“But?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>“The demons came with me, couldn’t outrun the fuckers. No matter what I do, they’ll always be the weight on my shoulders, the screaming in my head, the darkness in my heart.”</p><p> </p><p>“A wise idiot once told me that we walk through hell so the world doesn’t burn in it. The more demons you have, the less there are out there in the world. It’s the only comfort we have.” Natasha reminded you.</p><p> </p><p>“I told you that…” You dead-panned.</p><p> </p><p>“Like I said, a wise idiot.” She smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“You haven’t told me you missed me.” You pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re the more emotional one, you tell me you missed me.” She ordered.</p><p> </p><p>You took her in, your gaze drinking in her beauty. She was every bit as stunning as you remembered, like a deadly dream. You unconsciously leant in closer.</p><p> </p><p>“I missed you every damn day Red, more than you could ever know.” You whispered throatily.</p><p> </p><p>She moved closer still, until you were practically pressed together, and she breathed out two words that sent your heart into overdrive.</p><p> </p><p>“Show me.”</p><p> </p><p>There was barely a millimetre between your lips, all you had to was breath in and she would be yours. You held your breath.</p><p> </p><p>It had been a long few years away from her. You were like a parched woman in the desert, and she the oasis that could heal you. The lust that was threatening to overwhelm you had always been there between you, but never acted on. It wasn’t love, so it wasn’t worth risking your friendship over. But you had destroyed what you had already, and there were no lines left to cross except this one. Kissing Natasha right now could be the final nail in the coffin, or it could be the bridge that gave you a way home. It was destruction or it was destiny, and you didn’t know which.</p><p> </p><p>You didn’t care. In this moment, this dreamlike moment, she could be yours. What came after could wait.</p><p> </p><p>You cradled the back of her head in your palm, her hair soft against your fingers, and you pulled her those last few millimetres to you and sealed your fate with the kiss you had always dreamt of.</p><p> </p><p>You had kissed these lips before, but it had never been Natasha returning the kiss, it had been whoever she was playing the part of for the mission. None of those women kissed like Natasha did, with a vicious, almost violent passion.</p><p> </p><p>It was like an instantaneous hit of a drug, the softness of her lips, the sweetness of her taste. You brain clouded over and let your body take the reins, and your body knew what it wanted.</p><p> </p><p>It wanted more, it wanted all of her. It wanted to dominate and be dominated, it wanted to be utterly consumed by her and wrapped around her, tangled with hers. Your fingers tangled in her hair as your other hand found the small of her back and you spun her around and pushed her against the wall, pressing your body against hers. One of her hands squeezed your hips, the other sliding across your neck as her fingers pressed into your skin.</p><p> </p><p>“You gotta tell me if you really want this, love. You have to tell me.” You whined breathlessly against her lips.</p><p> </p><p>Her fingers tightened on your throat and she pulled her head away just enough to stare you down.</p><p> </p><p>“You have my consent. Do I have yours?” She said firmly.</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely Red.” You said without hesitation.</p><p> </p><p>Her lips slammed back onto yours, her teeth nipping harshly at your bottom lip before she slowly dragged her tongue over the ache, soothing it away.</p><p> </p><p>You grabbed the back of her thighs and easily lifted her up, settling her down on the nearest surface. She immediately pulled you in with her thighs, squeezing your hips between them to the point of almost pain. Her hands were under your shirt, her nails dragging across your back and sending shivers through you.</p><p> </p><p>You pushed her down with your body until she way lying flat on the table you’d placed her upon and you kissed her until your lungs burned with the lack of oxygen, while your hands traced down her legs and blindly unlaced her boots, pulling them off. She tugged at the hem of your shirt and you pulled away, gasping for breath, to let her yank your shirt over your head while you fumbled to pull your own shoes off.</p><p> </p><p>It was in the moment that you looked down to pull your boot off that she struck. A sharp pinch in the back of your neck that let you know you’d been played.</p><p> </p><p>“Evil.” You hissed, vision already going blurry.</p><p> </p><p>“Knew it was the only way to distract you enough to drug you. They don’t call me the Black Widow for nothing.” She said unapologetically, sliding off the table and catching you before you hit the ground.</p><p> </p><p>The distinctive red of her hair was the last thing you saw before you were dragged under, into darkness.</p><p> </p><p>When you woke, it was to a flickering yellow light.</p><p> </p><p>A string of muffled curses flew from your lips as you stumbled groggily to your feet, trying to take in your surroundings. You were in a small musty room with a bed, a small table and a chair. There was a window on the far side of the room that the light that had woken you was flickering through, partially obstructed by the plastic blinds. You pulled yourself over to it and carefully peered out of the blinds and into a dark parking lot. The light was coming from a sign that said ‘River Valley Motel’.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha had seduced you, knocked you out and kidnapped you so she could bring you to… a motel?</p><p> </p><p>You stumbled back over to the bed, and kicked something on the floor, nearly tripping over it. It was a black rucksack that you picked up and unzipped as you plopped yourself back down on the lumpy mattress.</p><p> </p><p>“What the?” You muttered as you rummaged through the contents.</p><p> </p><p>There was several thousand dollars at least, in rolled up bills, two handguns with spare ammo, several knives, and a passport. You opened the passport and three pieces of paper fell out. You picked up the one that had your name written on it and unfolded it.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Fury won’t find you this time. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>That one sentence said it all. She’d kidnapped you so Fury couldn’t track you. You’d wanted out, and whether or not she agreed with it, she wanted you to have your way. Nobody would be able to drag you back into the thick of it this time, not with Natasha covering your tracks. But as much as this was a gift, it was also a choice.</p><p> </p><p>Because there were two tickets in the bag. One for a flight to France, where you would start a new life under the identity she had provided for you, and one for a train back to New York, where The Gunslinger would be resurrected.</p><p> </p><p>If you came back this time, it would be your choice and nobody else’s. She was giving you freedom, either way. She didn’t have to drug and kidnap you to do it, but you supposed you deserved it.</p><p> </p><p>The question now was, what life were you going to choose? The old one, or the new one?</p><p> </p><p>You slipped one of the tickets into your pocket, and tore the other one up.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Bury Your Dead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Coffee.</p><p> </p><p>He felt like a B-movie Zombie, ambling up the corridor, one word on repeat in his mind.</p><p> </p><p>Coffee.</p><p> </p><p>He was running on even less sleep than usual, and going even further over the recommended daily dose of caffeine than he normally did as a result.</p><p> </p><p>If anyone had noticed the slight tilt towards insanity, they were staying blissfully silent about it. The only person who would call him out on it would be Natasha, but it was almost like she was avoiding him at the moment. It had been three weeks since the spectre from his past had appeared in the middle of the battle at the AIM facility before you disappeared without a trace. Since then he had spent most of his time at the Compound, locked in the room Stark had designated for him.</p><p> </p><p>If anyone came into his room they’d probably think he’d lost it completely. The walls were covered with maps, old case files, leads that led nowhere. Long lines of red string that connected her to places you could have gone, but was never found. The Gunslinger was alive, after all this time, but he’d lost you again.</p><p> </p><p>He stumbled blindly into the kitchen, forgoing the need for a light as he made his way over to the coffee pot and picked it straight up off the burner and started guzzling it. Judging by the darkness outside, he’d lost another day to the mystery.</p><p> </p><p>“Clint.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’re up early.” He rasped.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t need to turn around to recognize Steve’s voice. He felt Cap move behind him, setting a thin manila envelope on the counter.</p><p> </p><p>“I asked around, got what I could out of Maria. This is everything they had on her when they tracked her down.” Steve sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Who?” He asked dumbly, swallowing down the lump in his throat.</p><p> </p><p>“You do realise your talking to someone who’s friend also came back from the dead? You thought I wouldn’t notice what you’ve been trying to do?” Steve asked with wry amusement.</p><p> </p><p>Yeah, he’d been an idiot not to think of that. If anyone would understand the purgatory he was living in right now, it would be Cap.</p><p> </p><p>“Any leads?” He asked blandly, not daring to hope.</p><p> </p><p>“Apparently she owned a bar in New Orleans. She was using the name Nicola C Hill.” Steve revealed.</p><p> </p><p>Clint snorted at the sass of your fake identity, though he wondered what the C stood for.</p><p> </p><p>“But the bars been closed for three weeks, and Nicola Hill was declared dead. Fury’s work apparently. Tying up loose ends.” Steve continued.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, that sounds about right. Still, might be someone in Orleans she got close to. They might know where she is now.” He deduced.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to fly out in the morning, see if we can find out anything? I can make up a fake mission for us to keep the rest of the team of our tracks until you’re ready to bring them in.” Steve offered.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not going to tell me they could help?”</p><p> </p><p>Steve smiled and shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“I know they could, and they would. But I know how personal this is, you don’t have to bring anyone in until you want to. I’d like to help though, if you’ll let me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Anyone ever tell you you’re a good guy Cap?” He smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“Only those who don’t know me.” Steve chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>He stared down at the dark dregs left in the coffee pot, swirling them as he thought about what to do next.</p><p> </p><p>“She was barely more than a kid when I first met her, running down the halls of the Triskelion, covered in soot. I could smell the smoke and hear Coulson yelling so I grabbed her and pulled her into the vents to wait it out. She had this larger than life energy going on, but I could tell she was terrified. She attached herself to me after that, admitted to me that I made her feel safer. I watched Shield take all that mischief and excitement and twist it up and darken it. She stopped being afraid, her fear just turned into this tired resignation. She was good at what she did, but it wasn’t good for her.”</p><p> </p><p>“She made her own choices Clint. She signed up with Shield, that’s not on you.” Steve said gently.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, but she was a dumbass who could never make a healthy life decision. I should have straightened her out.” He snorted humourlessly.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe you can get a second chance to help her. Get her away from Fury for good this time, make sure he can’t track her down again.” Steve suggested.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe. He could get you away from it all, without losing you this time. Between him and Natasha, Fury wouldn’t be able to drag you back into the thick of it again.</p><p> </p><p>Unless…</p><p> </p><p>“Ah shit.” He groaned, slamming the coffee pot down on the counter.</p><p> </p><p>Steve just raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate on the obvious epiphany he’d had.</p><p> </p><p>“I know who to ask where we find her.” He explained.</p><p> </p><p>~~~Far, Far Away~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Sweetheart, if you’re going to do something, you’ve got to commit to it.” You laughed, topping up the shot glass.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, but you’ve got to take one as well.”</p><p> </p><p>“Way ahead of you Jeff.” You grinned, holding up your own shot glass and toasting him with it.</p><p> </p><p>“”Josh.” He corrected as you threw back the shot.</p><p> </p><p>“Ooops.” You spluttered, laughing through the burn of alcohol on your tongue.</p><p> </p><p>“Now come on, drink! Drink, drink, drink!” You chanted, banging your fists on the bar.</p><p> </p><p>You quickly caught the attention of the other patrons and ‘Josh’ soon found himself surrounded by drunk strangers pushing shot after shot at him. Peer pressure was problematic and on a personal level, you wholly disagreed with it.</p><p> </p><p>But this wasn’t personal. This was business.</p><p> </p><p>Your unfortunate victim was easily caught up in the electric atmosphere of the nightclub, letting you supply him with drink after drink, until he couldn’t stand up on his own. He was too distracted by the way you nuzzled into his side and ran your hand across his thigh to notice that you hadn’t drank anything after the first shot.</p><p> </p><p>“Lets get out of here.” You whispered breathlessly in his ear, pulling back to look up at him with wide innocent eyes and biting your lip.</p><p> </p><p>“Les go.” He slurred, stumbling out of his chair and fumbling for your hand.</p><p> </p><p>You let him steer you out of the bar, wobbling around like a newborn deer. You kept your grin in place as you tugged him towards the carpark with a girlish giggle and pushed him up against the door of a dark SUV with tinted windows.</p><p> </p><p>“Thish yoursh?” He hiccupped.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s call it a rental.” You said evasively, opening the backseat door for him.</p><p> </p><p>He leered at you suggestively as you pushed him onto the backseat.</p><p> </p><p>“This might hurt a bit, but it’ll hurt more when you wake up.” You assured him, cradling his head in your hands.</p><p> </p><p>His drunken mind barely registered the ominous warning before you slammed his skull against the inside of the car door, hard enough to leave a dent.</p><p> </p><p>“Sleep tight, <em>Josh McClane.” </em>You said sweetly as he slumped over, completely unconscious.</p><p> </p><p>You reached under the seat and retrieved the masking tape and zip ties, wrapping up your victim nice and tight before you clambered out of the back seat and slammed the door closed. As soon as you were in the drivers seat and had the engine running, you pulled out of the parking lot and made your way onto the highway. Rolling down the window, you dangled your hand out of it and let go of the trashy blonde and pink wig you’d just pulled off, letting it be snatched up by the wind and carried away.</p><p> </p><p>~~~The Avengers Compound~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Where is she?” Clint asked without any preamble, speaking as soon as he walked into the room.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha looked up from the mission report she was glancing over, her expression unreadable.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know. I set her up with an identity in France but she never turned up.” She shrugged, not bothering to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about.</p><p> </p><p>“How could you do that?” He sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“How could I not? If I hadn’t then she would have just been used up by Fury again, until she snapped or died for real.” She defended.</p><p> </p><p>“Not how could you get rid of her, how could you do it without bringing me in?” He pressed.</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t going to. I went to talk to her, to find out what happened, and do you know what she told me?”</p><p> </p><p>“What?” He asked in trepidation.</p><p> </p><p>“She didn’t tell us she was alive because she needed a clean break, to make sure she wasn’t dragged back.” Natasha told him calmly.</p><p> </p><p>He swallowed down the lump in his throat, turning over that small piece of information in his mind. He knew you had been selfish for doing what you did, but he hadn’t considered that he might be being selfish by trying to undo it. If he had known you were alive, if he had kept contact with you, how likely was it that he would have unwillingly pulled you back into this world?</p><p> </p><p>If you knew what was going on with Ultron, would you have come to help them?</p><p> </p><p>Would you have come out of your retirement when he came out of his and stood beside him in the Airport in Germany?</p><p> </p><p>Or any mission in between? All the times he and Nat had been injured, would you have been able to stay away, stay out of it?</p><p> </p><p>No… He knew without a doubt that the only way you could properly sever your ties with the Gunslinger was if you were out of the loop completely.</p><p> </p><p>It didn’t mean it didn’t still sting.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s something else. I gave her a ticket back to New York as well. She didn’t use that either. Fury’s lost her completely. She’s in the wind and I think she wants to stay there.” Natasha said sympathetically.</p><p> </p><p>“Tough. She can disappear again once she’s looked me in the eye and told me why she let me bury her.” He said stubbornly, digging his heels in.</p><p> </p><p>He knew why, he could even begrudgingly understand it, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t believe it was really what you wanted. You might want  to be free, but you didn’t want to be alone. If there was someone in New Orleans who you had connected with, anyone at all, then he might be able to leave this alone. But he couldn’t let you go if you were alone, he couldn’t bear the thought of you out there in the world without a single friend. It didn’t have to be him or Nat, he just needed it to be someone.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you have any leads?” Nat asked.</p><p> </p><p>“One. Maybe.” He admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“New Orleans? The funerals tomorrow.” Nat smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah? It’s the last chance to find a lead.” He mused.</p><p> </p><p>“Want to bury her? Again?” She offered, a sad, teasing smirk on her face.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll bring the whisky.” He sighed.</p><p> </p><p>~~~A Dark Basement~~~</p><p> </p><p>You hummed some catchy pop tune you’d heard on the radio to yourself as you inspected the scalpel in your hand. A low pained groan let you know that your guest was waking up.</p><p> </p><p>“Good morning sunshine!” You yelled loudly, chuckling when he winced .</p><p> </p><p>It took him a good few minutes to fight through the hangover and the concussion enough to focus his gaze on you. His eyes travelled from your tightly laced combat boots, to the gun in your thigh holster, to the scalpel in your hand before finally settling on your amused grin. Dread filled his features, and adrenaline pushed out the pain as he struggled to free his bound wrists.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t bother lover, I’ve got you tied up nice and tight in that chair.” You told him jauntily, setting the scalpel down on the table behind you.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you want? Money? I have money, just tell me.” He pleaded.</p><p> </p><p>“Not money, Mr McLane, though I don’t doubt a high ranking man like you gets well paid by AIM.” You told him.</p><p> </p><p>“AIM? Who?” He lied, badly.</p><p> </p><p>You sighed heavily and shook your head.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, lets not play games Josh. I know who you are and who you work for.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m an investment banker.” He sniffled.</p><p> </p><p>The words were no sooner out of his mouth than you had unholstered your gun and fired it, shooting from the hip with a practiced casualness. The bullet slammed into his thigh and he screamed loudly, swearing at you.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, I work for AIM!!! I do. I’m a project manager and team leader!” He wailed.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s better.” You congratulated.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you want?” He spat out through gritted teeth.</p><p> </p><p>“Three weeks ago The Avengers took something from your organization, a vial containing the last know sample of something special. I want to know where the formula is.” You said simply, getting up and standing over him.</p><p> </p><p>“The doctor who created it, he’s dead. The formula is incomplete, it will do you no good.” He choked out through his pain.</p><p> </p><p>“Sooner or later, someone will decipher the notes left behind by the good doctor. I don’t want AIM in possession of that formula. So tell me where it is.” You gently encouraged, caressing the inside of his thigh with the barrel of the gun.</p><p> </p><p>“Who do you work for?” He hissed.</p><p> </p><p>“Where’s the notes?” You countered.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t tell you. They will kill me.”</p><p> </p><p>“They’ll kill you a lot faster and more humanely than I will. I’ll chain you to the wall and hook you up to an IV, let that wound in your leg fester and get infected before I finally cut it off. I’ll let you die over the course of months, every moment spent in unbearable agony. Or you give me what I want and I let you run, give you a chance to hide from AIM, let them think I killed you.” You enticed.</p><p> </p><p>You saw his eyes flicker around the room, taking in the medical/torture equipment.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s in a safety deposit vault in a bank in Montreal.” He whispered.</p><p> </p><p>“What bank, what number of safety deposit box?” You pressed.</p><p> </p><p>“Scotiabank. 1963.” He sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright. Let me hook you up to enough fluids to keep you alive while I’m gone and I’ll be on my way.” You chirped.</p><p> </p><p>“What? You said you’d let me go!” He yelped.</p><p> </p><p>“And I will. Once I have the notes. You really think I would let you go before I know if you’re telling the truth?” You tutted.</p><p> </p><p>You knew he was lying, because you already knew the incomplete formula was in the city. You’d spent three weeks tracking it here, and he was the last piece of the puzzle. You knew the exact building it was on, the floor it was one, the make and model of the safe it was ensconced in. All you needed was the code to open the safe. But you let your informant think you had no idea. He held out until you tied his tie around his arm to find a vien before he cracked.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s in the AIM facilty on the southside of the city! It’s in my office, in my safe! The code is 733-6478!” He blurted panickily.</p><p> </p><p>“Atta boy.” You praised, patting his cheek hard enough to sting.</p><p> </p><p>“Let me go now you psychopath!” He shrieked.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry buddy. Those aren’t my orders.” You shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>He inhaled wearily, desperation etched all over his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Who are you? Who do you work for?” He asked again.</p><p> </p><p>You smirked viciously and bent down until your lips were level with his ear so you could whisper to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Hail Hydra.”  </p><p> </p><p>What was left of the blood in his face drained away.</p><p> </p><p>“Hydra scum!” He hissed.</p><p> </p><p>You silently agreed with him, but let a look of intense anger cross your face as you backhanded him, sending him and the chair he was in careening to the floor.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be back soon. Don’t go anywhere.” You said sarcastically as you sashayed away.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as you were out of the basement you rolled your shoulders and shook your head at your own theatrics. You had the code, now you had to get to work.</p><p> </p><p>Less than quarter of an hour later you pulled up in a carpark less than two streets away from the AIM facilty, a three story building in an office district. Hiding right in plain sight, like most of AIM. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and dialled the number that would set the first phase of your plan in motion. As soon as you hung up, you checked the live surveillance stream of your victim. He was right on schedule, stretching his arms to almost breaking point so he could use the rusty nail protruding from the wall to saw through tape on his wrists. If he kept at it he would be free within the hour. Silently cheering him on, you switched to the special app you’d had made for you by an old contact.</p><p> </p><p>If your plan had gone smoothly, then right now, deep in the AIM facility, in an unassuming janitors closet, there was a bottle of pine scented floor bleach. Even evil organizations needed to have their floors mopped, and it hadn’t taken a full hour for you to track down the supplier of their cleaning products. It had taken less than another half a day to sneak into the depot and slip a small device into one bottle and reseal it.  You activated the device remotely and crossed your fingers.</p><p> </p><p>Right now that device should be igniting, creating a very, very minor explosion. You didn’t need a big boom, you just needed something to help ignite all the other bottles, the one you’d injected a highly flammable liquid into. The whole maintenance closet should be quickly and silently engulfed in flames, flames that would spread.</p><p> </p><p>You heard the sound of sirens approaching and grinned. You’d already called the fire brigade, and since this facility was top secret, it was listed as a private office building, which meant the fire service would have the freedom to enter, whether AIM liked it or not.</p><p> </p><p>You popped the trunk and got out of the car, quickly changing into the firefighters uniform you’d “borrowed” from a local firefighter who was currently on maternity leave. When you walked around the corner,  It was child’s play to slip into the throng of real firefighters and into the building. Thanks to the blaze you’d set, you didn’t have to do a damn thing. The real heroes argued their way into the building, and you along with them.</p><p> </p><p>And because Josh McLane was currently doing his best to escape from your basement, you knew his office was empty. So you just walked right in, uncovered the safe, opened it, and rolled up the papers you were looking for and stuffed them in your jacket and walked back out.</p><p> </p><p>Stuffing the uniform in your boot once more, you got back into your car and drove away.</p><p> </p><p>AIM <em>really </em>needed to step up their security, if only to provide you with a better challenge. There was only one thing left for you to do now, and that was sit patiently and wait for McLane to escape. You pulled into a drive through and ordered  food to keep you occupied while you watched him cry to himself, bitching and moaning until he finally managed to saw through the tape and free himself. When he had hobbled upstairs and found the front door, cursing once he realised he was only about a quarter mile away from the AIM facility you laughed victoriously.</p><p> </p><p>Now he’d crawl back to his superiors and tell them that Hydra had stolen the formula. You’d stolen the notes and set AIM against Hydra in one fell swoop.</p><p> </p><p>The Gunslinger was back. Well… almost.</p><p> </p><p>~~~Two Days Later ~~~</p><p> </p><p>“So, how did the mission go?” Sam chirped as a dejected Clint and Natasha unboarded the Quinjet.</p><p> </p><p>“It was a waste of time.” Clint sighed, dragging himself into the compound.</p><p> </p><p>It was the second time he’d attended your funeral, though the first had been better attended. This one for Nicky Hill was a small affair, with a few patrons and staff who knew nothing about you or your alias attending. He’d combed through your fake life and come up with nothing at all. Wherever you were, you’d left New Orleans behind for it.</p><p> </p><p>You weren’t in France, you weren’t in New York, you hadn’t gone back to Fury. You were just… gone. Again.</p><p> </p><p>“Barton, before you go in there, we should talk.” Steve called, hurrying over to him.</p><p> </p><p>“Can it wait?” Clint grouched.</p><p> </p><p>He was tired to the bone, physically and emotionally. Laura was being so understanding, letting him hunt his ghosts, but his ghosts didn’t want to be found. He needed to go home, back to the farm to regroup, see his family.</p><p> </p><p>“Trust me, it can’t wait.” Sam winced as Clint strode into the kitchen and made a beeline straight for the coffee pot, ignoring everyone sat around the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Would it kill you to refill the pot guys?” He huffed when he saw it was empty.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s my bad, I got the last cup. Here, have it.” Someone offered, pushing a mug of coffee across the counter at him.</p><p> </p><p>He stilled, turning his head in slow motion to look at the coffee bandit.</p><p> </p><p>You smirked at him and wiggled your fingers in a wave.</p><p> </p><p>“Honey, I’m home!” You crowed.</p><p> </p><p>The empty coffee pot spun towards the floor, smashing against it with an ear-splitting crash. A stunned and tense silence followed as he blinked and tried to figure out if he was seeing things.</p><p> </p><p>You were sat right there, leaning against the counter top, Tony and Wanda on either side of you. You looked so comfortable, so natural there, it made him uneasy.</p><p> </p><p>How was the dead woman he’d been chasing just sitting casually in the kitchen, picking at a croissant?</p><p> </p><p>“So… This isn’t awkward at all.” Tony snorted.</p><p> </p><p>Clint didn’t pay Tony any attention, not tearing his eyes away from you. Wanda got up and tried to inconspicuously Shepard Tony out of the kitchen while you meekly stuffed pastry into your mouth. Only when Steve and Nat worriedly baked out of the room and left the two of you alone did he finally speak.</p><p> </p><p>“You little shit!” He exclaimed.</p><p> </p><p>The corner of your mouth tugged up into a sheepish grin as you stood up and walked around the counter until you were stood in front of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Did ya miss me?” You asked him cheekily.</p><p> </p><p>He inhaled forcefully, puffing his chest up and glaring at you.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, ok, wait. Before you explode at me… Let me explain.” You pleaded, holding up your hands.</p><p> </p><p>“You do owe me an explanation.” He agreed coldly, crossing his arms and staring you down.</p><p> </p><p>You flinched at his tone and looked around the kitchen like you were hoping the right words would pop out of the toaster or something.</p><p> </p><p>“I…. Being an Agent was killing me Clint. Little by little, day by day, it was killing me from the inside out. But I kept going because we were supposed to be protecting the world, helping it. When I found out that we were Hydra all along, I snapped.” You whispered.</p><p> </p><p>“Never thought you’d be the one that ran away.” He muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“I was the one who went in when Shield wanted to cut their losses Clint. You and Nat were refined and precise, but me? I was chaos. I was never sent to rescue anybody or protect them, I never took down a weapons smuggler by infiltrated the organization. I was sent in to burn everything down and salt the Earth. I was the failsafe, the last resort, the bomb that kills the innocent and the enemy in one fiery inferno. My hands aren’t just stained with blood, I’m drowning in it.” You croaked out, all the pain and exhaustion bleeding into your tone.</p><p> </p><p>“You should have come to me, or Nat, or even Sharon.” He said, thawing slightly.</p><p> </p><p>“Fury was never going to cut me loose, he just proved that. I needed to die, it was my only way out, and I couldn’t take you or Nat with me because you’d have brought me back in. Not on purpose, but I wouldn’t have been able to resist. I had to cut all ties and disappear, I had to die because it was the only way I was going to survive.” You explained, almost desperately.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell happened in Mexico, Gun?” He demanded, cutting through to the catalyst that had set everything in motion.</p><p> </p><p>You stilled at the question, your eyes flashing dangerously.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t care if you can’t forgive me, if we’re never friends again. If any part of you ever cared for me at all, never, ever ask me that question again.” You warned.</p><p> </p><p>He stared you down, his face an expressionless mask. It was a tense stand-off, fraught with years of history and unforgivable pain, right there in the pristine halls of the fancy complex. On the outside you looked calm, if tensed up, but on the inside you were screaming. He moved forward, advancing on you slowly like he was approaching a wounded animal. He reached out like he was going to grasp your shoulder and you instinctively flinched away, glaring at him. He kept moving, undeterred, yanking you into his chest by your shoulder. You trembled as your desire to pull away warred with your need to sink into the embrace.  </p><p> </p><p>“I forgive you. It’s ok Gun, everything’s going to be ok.” He whispered hoarsely.</p><p> </p><p>You could put on your mask, hide behind the emotionless façade, but Clint had always been able to see through you. He was the one person who was brave enough to try and hug you when you wanted to hit something, the one who saw the fear in you when everyone else just saw the deranged and unhinged maniac.</p><p> </p><p>You’d come back to life, and it terrified you, but what had scared you most of all was that you would remain dead to the people that mattered. You gave into it, gave into him, sliding your arms around his torso and hugging him back.</p><p> </p><p>“I missed you, brat.” He muttered into your hair.</p><p> </p><p>“I missed you too.” You said quietly, angling your lips to his ear so it would be picked up by his hearing aids.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Dead Walk Amongst Us</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oh good, I was wondering if you were going to come talk to us or stand up being sentimental in my halls all day.” Tony yelled as soon as he saw you and Clint walk around the corner.</p><p> </p><p>“We weren’t being sentimental.” You lied.</p><p> </p><p>“He has cameras.” Clint sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn it.”</p><p> </p><p>You took your visual cues from the two men and headed into the room they clearly wanted you to go in. It was a fairly bland meeting room, with floor to ceiling windows and a large conference table. The only interesting thing about it was the sole occupant sat waiting. Natasha gave you an almost imperceptible smirk as you walked past her to sit at the head of the table, bypassing the chair and perching on the edge of the table as Clint took the chair just beating Stark there. He huffed in annoyance but good naturedly took the seat to your right, muttering about ‘lack of respect’ under his breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Have you met everyone?” Clint asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Almost everyone.” You nodded, eyeing up the man walking into the room with Steve Rogers.</p><p> </p><p>Steve threw you a quick welcoming smile and you didn’t know if he was just that friendly with everyone, or if you were a special case because of your connection to Clint and Nat. Whatever the reason, you weren’t complaining. He had a nice smile. Well, he had a nice everything actually.</p><p> </p><p>“Dr Bruce Banner, this is… The Gunslinger?” Steve introduced, frowning when he realised he didn’t have your name.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun.” You, Clint and Natasha said simultaneously.</p><p> </p><p>“Hello. You asked to see me?” Bruce asked, peering at you curiously.</p><p> </p><p>It was true, you had, just before Clint and Natasha had arrived back at the compound.</p><p> </p><p>“I did. I have something for you.” You told him, reaching into your inside pocket and retrieving the rolled up wad of papers.</p><p> </p><p>He took them off of you with a small frown as he unrolled them.</p><p> </p><p>“Well don’t keep us in suspense.” Stark quipped as Dr Banner blindly fumbled for a chair and sat down heavily in it, never tearing his eyes away from the papers.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s the formula for the virus sample you retrieved from AIM a few weeks ago.” You elaborated.</p><p> </p><p>“We retrieved. You helped.” Steve said, determined to give you credit for the assist.</p><p> </p><p>You thanked him with a nod and a grin, which he returned.</p><p> </p><p>“How did you get this?” Dr Banner frowned, not looking up from the pile of papers with undecipherable (to you) scribbles on them.</p><p> </p><p>“Espionage.” You shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>Clint snorted loud enough to draw everyone’s attention and then tried and failed miserably to disguise it as a cough.</p><p> </p><p>“Something you want to share with the class Big Bird?” Tony asked in amusement.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun doesn’t do espionage.” He explained.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s true. It’s not your area of expertise.” Natasha agreed, smirking at you unapologetically.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah. Blowing things up, shooting things, that’s your area of expertise.” Clint sniggered.</p><p> </p><p>“I used espionage to kidnap an AIM employee, and then I shot him. And then set fire to the facility… With espionage. I’m good at espionage ok? I’m just not subtle about it.” You defended, standing up and crossing your arms sulkily.</p><p> </p><p>“Unsubtle espionage?” Steve Rogers repeated, his face blankly polite but amusement shining through his tone.</p><p> </p><p>“In her defence, she did trick two of the best spies in the world into thinking she was dead. How’s that for espionage?” Tony muttered distractedly, reading the notes over Bruce’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>He only looked up when he realised everyone had gone silent. Nat sighed and shook her head at his idiocy while Clints whole manner soured at the reminder. You quietly moved behind Steve, using his ginormous dorito body to shield yourself from view before Clint’s ire was drawn back to you.</p><p> </p><p>“What, too soon?” Tony scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“Tony… Bruce, what have you got?” Steve asked, shaking his head in what you assumed was disappointment.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d need to study it further, but at first glance it seems the virus was designed to be as infectious as possible while exhibiting minimal symptoms.” Bruce explained.</p><p> </p><p>“So they wanted to infect as many people as possible with a mostly benign virus. That makes no sense.” Stark pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun, you seem to know the most. Any insights?” Steve asked, turning around and re-exposing you to the group.</p><p> </p><p>“It was created by a dude called Dr Farnsworth. No, wait, that’s the guy from Furturama… Maybe it was Dr Farnickle? No, Dr Frankincense?” You blabbered.</p><p> </p><p>“Fransman? Dr Eli Fransman?” Bruce asked suddenly, having a eureka moment.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s him! Yeah, Dr Fransman. He created the original virus as a host, or transmitter. The virus itself is highly infectious but harmless, the problem is that it’s techno-organic. Part of the formula was made up of nano-bots and the point of the virus was to distribute them.” You explained.</p><p> </p><p>“How did you find this out?” Tony asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Fury told me.” You elaborated.</p><p> </p><p>“Would have been nice if he told us as well. Did he mention the function of the nano’s?” Clint asked.</p><p> </p><p>“He didn’t know. The only person who knew was Dr Fransman and he died a few years ago. The sample you retrieved and those notes are all that remained of his work as far as I am aware. So I guess you should run tests on the sample to find out what the point of it was?” You suggested.</p><p> </p><p>“Fury took the sample.” Natasha revealed.</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Of course he did. Well, I’ll add stealing it back from him to my to-do list.” You bemoaned, pinching the bridge of your nose as you mentally added it to the list of stupid shit you had to do.</p><p> </p><p>“”I miss being dead.” You whispered, more to yourself than anyone else.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not saying don’t steal from your boss, but if you’re going to do it, be careful.” Steve said softly, leaning over slightly so you could hear him.</p><p> </p><p>You looked over with pleasant surprise. You’d expected him to be a little more uptight, but here he was, the great Captain America, the well known symbol of morality, grinning at you with a very definite twinkle of mischief in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks for the advice Cap, but I don’t work for Fury so I can rob him as much as I like. If you want anything just slip me a list.” You sniggered.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, hold up? You <em>don’t </em>work for Fury?” Tony barked, looking very interested in the conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“I politely declined his job offer. Technically I just ghosted him but I think he got the point. I’m freelancing now. Speaking of which, shall I send you the bill for this?” You asked Tony, gesturing at the notes in Bruce’s hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t the first one supposed to be on the house? Drumming up business and all that?” Tony tried.</p><p> </p><p>“First one was on the house. If you’ll notice, Hawk’s got a distinct lack of bullet holes in him and I crashed a motorbike into a building for you. You’re welcome by the way.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. How do you want paid? Cash, grass or ass? Not my ass, I’m taken, but with the looks our resident boy scout is giving you, I’m betting he’d be willing to take one for the team.” Stark teased, wiggling his eyebrows at Steve.</p><p> </p><p>The good captains cheeks turning faintly pink and Clint turned his laugh into a fake cough.</p><p> </p><p>“I think she was hinting at being allowed to go shopping in the weapons vault.” Natasha pointed out, not before smirking at Steve.</p><p> </p><p>“You know me so well. Too well.” You told her, wincing and rubbing the back of your neck.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright Doc Holiday, go nuts. Hey, if you want something custom made just say the word.” Tony offered.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, can you make me a…” You started to ask excitedly.  </p><p> </p><p>“NO!” Natasha and Clint interrupted simultaneously, the former shooting you such a dangerous glare that you automatically took up your position hiding behind Steve again.</p><p> </p><p>“Never mind.” You whispered, mouthing ‘later’ at Stark as soon as Nat and Clint looked away.</p><p> </p><p>“If you’re a freelancer the we should have a serious discussion about whether the Avengers can consider you an asset and how and when you could be called in.” Steve mused.</p><p> </p><p>“We can do that. As for how, I’ll give you my card, once I have cards made.” You told him.</p><p> </p><p>“You have a phone? I assumed we’d just fire a gun into the sky and you’d ride on horseback.” Tony joked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yee-Haw.” You said obligingly.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on cowboy, I’ll take you shopping for your new toys.” Clint snorted, pulling himself to his feet and shepherding you to the door.</p><p> </p><p>“You joining us?” You asked Natasha hopefully as you passed her.</p><p> </p><p>“In a while. I want to talk to Bruce.” She responded.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll find you later, we can have that discussion.” Steve called after you.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a date.” You agreed, turning and walking backwards to you could smile teasingly at him, remembering Tony’s jab at the soldier.</p><p> </p><p>The Captain looked sufficiently embarrassed, but he still held your gaze, at least until Clint reached back through the door and dragged you out of the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Weapons room is just off the gym.” Clint said, throwing an arm around your shoulders and leading you through the compound.</p><p> </p><p>You still had a fairly decent (if somewhat dusty) weapons reserve, but it was nowhere near as stocked as you would have liked. One of the downsides of not being employed by a massively funded secret government agency. You hoped Stark was prepared for just how much firepower you liked to have on hand, because you were about to pick him clean.</p><p> </p><p>“So, freelancing?” Clint prodded.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not an agent anymore, and I don’t wanna be. I slipped back into this life too easily to keep denying it anymore though. So freelancing, emphasis on the free. No superiors, no orders, just a girl and her gun, taking on the world.”</p><p> </p><p>“But you’re back, really back? Because I don’t want to tell Laura unless this is going to last.” He said sternly.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s going to kick my ass and bury me in my grave, isn’t she?” You winced.</p><p> </p><p>“Yip.” Clint agreed, looking to happy about it for your liking.</p><p> </p><p>Coming back from the dead was stressful.</p><p> </p><p>Clint pushed the doors to the gym open and you took in the massive warehouse sized room, noting the rows of super-soldier and god proofed weights, the rows of targets and racks of weapons on the farside of the room, before you settled on the boxing ring in the dead centre of the gym. More importantly, the two soldiers who were stood in it.</p><p> </p><p>The man formerly known as the Winter Soldier was stood in the centre of the ring looking almost bored while The Falcon took a long swig from his water bottle.</p><p> </p><p>“Clint.” Sargent Barnes said blandly, eyeing you up, and not in a fun way.</p><p> </p><p>More like he was assessing how best to take you down.</p><p> </p><p>“Barnes, Wilson, this is…”</p><p> </p><p>“The Gunslinger! Been hoping to meet you since you pulled that stunt with the bike. That was a nice move by the way.” Sam Wilson interrupted, waving jovially at you.</p><p> </p><p>Barnes relaxed a fraction once you were identified, slipping from ready to kill, to just highly alert. Sam was a lot more relaxed, leaning on the ropes to watch with vested interest as you and Clint crossed the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Why thank you. You don’t have to use my full title by the way, call me Gun.” You told him, unable to stop yourself from smiling back at him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m Sam, Sam Wilson. That bundle of joy behind me is Bucky.”</p><p> </p><p>“I know who you are, I’m a big fan of the wings. Nice to have a bird themed superhero who can <em>actually fly</em>.” You informed him, unable to resist the chance to take a swipe at Clint.</p><p> </p><p>Sam preened at the compliment, ignoring Clint’s indignant huff and Barnes snort of derision.</p><p> </p><p>“You wanna spar with us, beautiful?” Sam called down, throwing an absolutely blinding grin at you.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m good. I’m a lover, not a fighter.” You declined.</p><p> </p><p>“I can work with that.” He said smoothly.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll bet you can.” You said back, deliberately checking him out.</p><p> </p><p>Barnes looked between you and Sam with an expression that reminded you of the grumpy cat.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m tapping out, you can have him.” He told you, climbing out of the ring.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s alright. I was serious when I said I wasn’t a fighter. Hand to hand combat isn’t my thing.” You shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be so hard on yourself kid, you’re a great combatant. Remember that time you managed to knock someone unconscious with a magic 8 ball?” Clint reminded you, patting you on the shoulder comfortingly.</p><p> </p><p>You turned your head to glare at him through narrowed eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“I hate you.” You told him flatly.</p><p> </p><p>“What are we missing?” Sam asked quizzically.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing.” You hissed.</p><p> </p><p>It had taken months for Natasha to forgive you for that incident and you didn’t want to reopen the wound by telling anyone what had happened.  She still harboured a grudge over it, no matter how many times you apologised or tried to explain that you didn’t know it would bounce off the wall, never mind fly across the room and smash into the back of her head.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, whatever you say. How does someone with no combat skills manage to become a Shield Agent though?” Sam asked.</p><p> </p><p>Barnes perked up, obviously curious as well.</p><p> </p><p>“I can fight. Somewhat. Ish. I can throw a punch, I’m just not a karate master.”</p><p> </p><p>You weren’t a badass like Natasha, Carter or Hill. They were highly-trained, highly-skilled spies with an arsenal of skills at their disposal. You were a chaotic idiot with a penchant for blowing things up and an almost supernatural skill with firearms. Natasha wouldn’t have set fire to the AIM facility to sneak in, she’d have found a much faster and more subtle way to sneak in. Your way was more fun though.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s more of a barfight brawler.” Clint added, oh so helpfully.</p><p> </p><p>“So unless we’re in a bar or you have a motorbike, we shouldn’t ask you for back-up?” Barnes snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m the Gunslinger, if you’re asking me for back-up, it’s means you’re already screwed.” You said flatly.</p><p> </p><p>You may have kept up the outward appearance of being friendly and carefree but if the side-glances Clint were throwing at you were any indication, he could sense your unease.</p><p> </p><p>“Five for five.” Clint said suddenly, tilting his head at the row of targets on the opposite wall.</p><p> </p><p>That was the only explanation he gave, but it all made sense when he pulled a gun from his waistband and tossed it through the air towards you.</p><p> </p><p>The world slowed to an almost standstill, the way it only did in these moments. All other thoughts faded away, leaving your mind blissfully clear and focused. You watched the gun spin through the air, noting the safety had already been clicked off. It was almost too easy, and you felt like you had all the time in the world. Stretching out your arm, you let the gun land in your hand, your finger sliding into place on the trigger naturally. You didn’t have to do much else, just move your arm a few inches to the left and squeeze the trigger five times in a row.</p><p> </p><p>With the final bang, the world caught up to you and you spun the gun in your hand and held it out to Clint by the handle while Sam and Bucky studied the targets on the other side of the room. Five bullet holes, perfectly centred in the heads of the five targets. You hadn’t even had to look to hit the targets, memory from your brief glance upon entering the room had been enough.</p><p> </p><p>Clint winked at you as he took the gun back and Sam let out a low whistle, impressed.</p><p> </p><p>“Looks like she’s got you beat.” He sniggered, elbowing the Bucky in the ribs.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky just grunted, looking begrudgingly impressed.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t feel bad about Sarge, you’re still prettier than I am.” You assured him.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn straight I am.” He said seriously.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you have to flirt with <em>everybody</em>?” Clint bitched.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” You answered, like it was obvious.</p><p> </p><p>“How are you with a sniper rifle?” Bucky asked, his focus entirely on you.</p><p> </p><p>He almost looked excited.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t mind getting my hands on a larger weapon, and I know exactly how to work them.” You said with a straight face, ignoring Clint’s wince at your wording.</p><p> </p><p>“Wanna go up to the roof and shoot stuff?” Sam offered.</p><p> </p><p>You immediately perked up, turning to Clint.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes! Can I go, pleeease?” You begged him.  </p><p> </p><p>“If you want. Careful though, you keep making friends and the team might try to adopt you.” Clint warned, not looking at all put out by the idea.</p><p> </p><p>“Freelancer. Not an Avenger. Besides, I can’t be seen hanging out with you guys.” You scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“Why, you too good for us?” Sam teased.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, and if AIM see me with you, they’ll realise I’m not actually Hydra.” You pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” Bucky snapped.</p><p> </p><p>The three men were all giving you concerned looks and you realised your mistake.</p><p> </p><p>“I told AIM I was Hydra so they would think that Hydra stole the formula from them. They’re both evil, let them tear chunks out of each other.” You elaborated.</p><p> </p><p>The silence stretched on long enough that you started to get a little nervous as the three men just blinked at you like you’d grown a third head.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re keeping her.” Bucky said resolutely, looking at Clint.</p><p> </p><p>“Seconded.” Sam added, crossing his arms and smirking at you.</p><p> </p><p>“Thirded.” Someone put in, making you look at the ceiling.</p><p> </p><p>There was a viewing deck of the gym above you, and Steve was leaning casually against the bannister, smiling down at you.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, motion passed.” Clint decided.</p><p> </p><p>“One hour. I’ve been here one hour.” You sighed heavily, rolling your eyes.</p><p> </p><p>All four of them were looking at you in a way that made your skin prickle uncomfortably. You internally hoped Natasha would show up soon, if only to rescue from being forcibly adopted.</p><p> </p><p>~~~One Floor Above You~~~</p><p> </p><p>Natasha was suspicious by nature, her life experience encouraging her to be more distrustful than trustful. The list of people she trusted almost without question was a very, <em>very </em>short list. You had earned your place on that list a long time ago, on a mission gone wrong in the Middle-East. After that day she knew that you were one of the few people she could rely on, and you had become one of the few people who could call the Black Widow a friend.</p><p> </p><p>But that was before she knew what you were capable of. She had seen the body, supposedly your body. She had seen the medical files identified the burnt out corpse as definitely yours. She had been fooled, and she wasn’t an easy person to fool. You had coldly used a tumultuous situation to your advantage, preying on the chaos. On a professional level she was impressed, even on a personal level, to a degree. But it did call into question how much you could be trusted.</p><p> </p><p>The seeds of distrust had started to sprout before your ‘death’ though. The Gunslinger who returned from Mexico wasn’t the one she knew, but she had seen enough of trauma to understand the change in you.</p><p> </p><p>Still, the suspicions she had weren’t unfounded, and she had been right to explore them further.</p><p> </p><p>Right there, shining up at her from the screen, written in Dr Eli’s Fransmans file, was the undeniable evidence that you were not who she had thought you were.</p><p> </p><p>“I knew it.” Bruce exclaimed from further in the lab.</p><p> </p><p>“Knew what?” She asked emotionlessly.</p><p> </p><p>“I knew of Dr Fransmans work and as I thought, he has no background in nanotech.” Bruce explained, emerging from the depths of the room, his face lit up with almost manic excitement.</p><p> </p><p>It only took a few seconds for the implication to sink in and she pieced it all together.</p><p> </p><p>“If Fransman didn’t develop the nanotech, someone else did. Which means someone else out there might know the formula for this virus, and we still don’t know what it does.” She realised, a chill creeping up her spine.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s been dead for years and the virus has only just surfaced so I suspect that there is another player.” Bruce agreed.</p><p> </p><p>She looked down at the open file on the screen, re-reading the words for the dozenth time, even though she knew them by heart.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s lucky that your friend showed up when she did, we might not have gotten a hold of this without her.” Bruce said.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think it was luck, or coincidence.” Natasha sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean? What was it?”</p><p> </p><p>“Espionage, Bruce. We’re being played.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. In Remembrance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Barton, Romanoff, we have a problem.”</p><p> </p><p>“We noticed.” Clint grunted, firing of an arrow at the tires of one of the many trucks chasing them.</p><p> </p><p>“A bigger problem than the one you’re currently facing.” Hill responded crisply.</p><p> </p><p>“A bigger problem than being chased through the desert by men with machine guns?” Natasha asked, swerving the quad bike to avoid a hail of gunfire, causing Clint to nearly fall off the back of it.</p><p> </p><p>“Watch it.” He muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“Good news is you have back-up, bad news is Gun is your back-up. Worse news is, she stole Rumlow’s clearance badge to check out gear from the Strike team.” Hill responded.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha squinted at the small dark spot atop a sand dune in the distance. The figure looked familiar and when a maniacal cackle sounded through her comms and the sun glinted off something the figure was holding, Hills warning made sense.</p><p> </p><p>“Hold on tight!” She warned Clint, swerving sharply to the right and pressing down on the gas as she quickly approached the small dune. As soon as he hit the top of the dune she jammed the brakes, causing the quad to slam to a halt, jolting sharply and sending her and Clint flying over the handle bars. They both swore as they rolled down the sand.</p><p> </p><p>Clint turned to her with an affronted and perplexed look, but before he could bitch about her actions, they started to make sense. He winced as his hearing aids picked up the high pitch whistle of the rocket passing over head and he threw himself on top of her, covering her body with his own. The earth shook underneath them as the explosion tore into the sand, incinerating everything it touched. Flames licked over them, the heat scorching them, but not touching them thanks to the dune that Natasha had put between them and the explosion.</p><p> </p><p>“Who the hell let her get a hold of a bazooka?” He yelled, rolling off of Nat as soon as the flames cleared.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m keeping it!” You exclaimed excitedly through the comms.</p><p> </p><p>“No you’re not.” Natasha warned, at the same time Clint swore.</p><p> </p><p>“Not a chance in hell.” He snapped.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to paint it pink!” You said giddily, ignoring them.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to kill her.” He grumbled, flopping down onto his back on the sand.</p><p> </p><p>“Not if I kill her first.” Nat argued, climbing to her feet and climbing up the dune to check out the damage.</p><p> </p><p>“How bad is it?” Clint asked, peering up at her.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha turned around and shrugged at him.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll let her off with it, this time.” She smirked, pleased with the carnage you’d made of their pursuers.</p><p> </p><p>He tilted his head to seek out your silhouette in the distance. He could see you waving at them hyperactively and raised his own hand in response, saluting you with his middle finger.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t be pissy because my Bazooka did what your lil’ arrows could not.” You chuckled.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not yours, you aren’t keeping it.” Hill sighed, still listening in.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, it did come in pretty handy.” Natasha defended, coming round to the idea.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t for one second think that it was a coincidence that you’d fired it when she was able to find cover, and it seemed to make you happy.</p><p> </p><p>“Nat.” Clint groaned, sounding betrayed as he pulled himself to his feet.</p><p> </p><p>“Who am I to stand in the way of true love?” She teased.</p><p> </p><p>True love it was indeed. By the time they trekked the half-mile through the desert to the Quinjet you had waiting for them, they found you taking a nap in the cargo hold, your body curled around the pilfered Bazooka like it was a teddy bear.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll fly us back.” Clint groaned, stopping long enough to wad up his jacket and stuff it under your head.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha slid down the wall, exhausted, and rested her head against her knees as Clint piloted the jet into the air.</p><p> </p><p>“You doing alright, Red?”</p><p> </p><p>She looked up to see you very much awake, propped up on your elbow and grinning at her.</p><p> </p><p>“I could use a shower and a stiff drink.” Natasha answered.</p><p> </p><p>You chuckled and fumbled in your pocket for something, pulling out a hip flask and tossing it at her. She gratefully unscrewed it and took a generous sip. It wasn’t Vodka, but it would do.</p><p> </p><p>“Why did you get called in? We had it under control.” She asked you, passing the flask back over.</p><p> </p><p>“I wasn’t technically called in. Heard your cover got blown this morning and figured you could use a hand. I know you had it covered, but this way was quicker. Least you didn’t have to ride through the desert all day.” You explained to her.</p><p> </p><p>“You stole a Bazooka <em>and</em> a Quinjet? You’re in so much trouble when we get back.” Natasha warned.</p><p> </p><p>“Some things are worth getting in trouble for.” You said nonchalantly.</p><p> </p><p>“Love you too, pest.” Clint called over his shoulder, having been listening in.</p><p> </p><p>“Eww.” You teased, wrinkling your nose up in faux disgust.</p><p> </p><p>“Мы любим тебя.” Natasha said softly as you stood up, offering her a hand and pulling her to her feet.</p><p> </p><p>“I know Red.” You whispered, guiding her over to a chair and dropping her in it.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on Hawk, I’ll fly us home, go nap.” You instructed.</p><p> </p><p>Clint didn’t have to be told twice, clambering out of the pilots chair and joining Natasha in the back. She shifted to let him sit next to her, letting her head droop onto his shoulder. She felt you hover over them for a few moments, making sure they were just tired and not injured. Clint rested his head atop hers as your footsteps moved away and she let herself fall asleep.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t wake up again until you yelled at them to let them know you were landing at The Triskelion. She and Clint stretched and yawned as you landed, switching the engines off. You hit the button to lower the ramp and vaulted over the pilots chair to snatch up the Bazooka.</p><p> </p><p>“I wonder who they sent to wrestle that thing off of you.” Clint wondered aloud, picking up his bow and slinging his quiver over his shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>He sniggered when the ramp opened up and revealed a very irritated looking woman with her hands on her hips, glaring at you.</p><p> </p><p>“Agent 13.” Natasha greeted with a smirk.</p><p> </p><p>“Romanoff, Barton.” Carter nodded as she passed them, making a beeline for the back of the Quinjet.</p><p> </p><p>You looked up as she approached, hugging the Bazooka to your chest possessively.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun… hand it over.” Sharon said briskly.</p><p> </p><p>“No.” You whined, pouting and frowning at the same time.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t make me take it from you.” Sharon sighed.</p><p> </p><p>The sounds of you swearing profusely and the unmistakable rustling and scuffling of a fight followed them as they walked off the Quinjet, leaving you to your fate.</p><p> </p><p>“Think we should chip in and get her a rocket launcher for Christmas?” Natasha wondered aloud.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re not allowed to get her weapons of mass destruction for Christmas anymore, remember?” He pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t tell Fury if you don’t.” She bartered.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not Fury I’m worried about. Laura’s still pissed she had to babysit Gun for two weeks after she blew herself up.” He scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“That was Hills fault, she’s the one who left a truck full of C-4 unattended.” She defended.</p><p> </p><p>Everybody, including you, knew that Hill had done it on purpose because she couldn’t condone you doing it, but wanted you to do it anyway. The usually stoic Agent had stayed with you in the hospital after you got caught in the blast, before she personally delivered you to the Barton farm to recover.</p><p> </p><p>You stomped loudly up the hallway behind them and Natasha bit back a grin. Clint wasn’t so kind, sniggering loudly at your tousled appearance.</p><p> </p><p>“You loose your toy?” He asked with mock sympathy.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” You harrumphed.</p><p> </p><p>“Want a hug?” He asked, opening his arms and shaking his head fondly.</p><p> </p><p>“No I don’t want a fucking hug, I want my Bazooka back!” You protested angrily, not slowing down as you approached and bodily throwing yourself into the embrace anyway.</p><p> </p><p>“13 says I’m being banished. Fury’s waiting to brief me.” You muttered, the words muffled by Clint’s shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“Banished or assigned?” Natasha asked patiently.</p><p> </p><p>“Who’s side are you on?” You hissed at her, letting Clint fold you into his side and tug you down the corridor.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not on the side of the person who nearly blew me up a couple of hours ago.” She rebutted playfully.</p><p> </p><p>“I did no such thing. I trusted you to get out of the way in time. I wouldn’t have done it if Clint was driving.” You scoffed, offended by the insinuation.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” He protested, shoving you away.</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, that’s fair.” Natasha agreed, linking her arm with yours and throwing a smug look at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Where are you headed and will you be gone long? Please say yes.” He bitched.</p><p> </p><p>“Shouldn’t be more than a week long mission, if that. It’s in Mexico but that’s all I know. Doubt it’ll be a difficult one.” You sighed, shrugging off Natasha as you reached the elevator.</p><p> </p><p>You were heading up to Fury’s office and they were headed for the locker rooms. If she had known what Mexico meant, Natasha would have taken a moment to look you over, memorise that version of you, bask in the light that still lived in your eyes. Instead she let Clint playfully shove you into the elevator and she walked away without a second glance.</p><p> </p><p>A full week passed but it wasn’t too concerning. Missions sometimes ran long, it didn’t mean anything was wrong. But when a second week went by, they started to grow concerned.</p><p> </p><p>“We should ask for an update.” Natasha decided during target practice.</p><p> </p><p>“They won’t tell us shit.” Clint grouched.</p><p> </p><p>“They can tell us when they think she should be back. Better than sitting around and waiting.” She cajoled.</p><p> </p><p>He deliberated it silently for a moment before nodding at her.</p><p> </p><p>“Let’s ask Hill. She’s the most likely to tell us.” He agreed.</p><p> </p><p>They weren’t expecting to get much useful information, but it was better than nothing. What they weren’t expecting was Hill to tell them what she did.</p><p> </p><p>“Hill, any word on when Gun’s back?” Clint asked.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as they saw the almost imperceptible frown on Maria’s face they knew something was wrong.</p><p> </p><p>“She got back from her mission on Tuesday morning.” Hill told them, her eyes lighting up with concern.</p><p> </p><p>Clint and Natasha shared a worried look.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll phone Laura, see if she’s heard from her. Meet me in the parking lot in ten, we’ll go to her apartment and check on her.” Clint decided, slipping into mission mode.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha nodded curtly, breaking off from him to head for the locker room. The three of you had a routine, always checking in with the others when you returned from a mission. In the event one of was unable to reach out, Hill would inform the others. If you had gotten back days ago and not contacted anybody, it meant something bad. Natasha changed out of her tactical suit in record time, forgoing a shower in favour of rushing to your side. Clint was already waiting in the drivers seat of his car, shaking his head to indicate Laura had no news. The drive to your shield assigned condo was short, terse and silent.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha didn’t think twice about unholstering her gun as she approached your door, she’d rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it. Clint clearly had the same idea and they both silently crept up the corridor to your front door, preparing themselves for whatever they might find. The door was closed, no signs of forced entry, but that did little to alleviate the worry in her mind. Clint unlocked the door as quietly as possible, thankfully you all had keys for each other places.</p><p> </p><p>The apartment was dark, cold, and deathly silent. They crept inside, searching the shadows for anything out of place. She cocked her head to the side, indicating she would take the left side of the apartment and he nodded and peeled off to the right. That put her at your bedroom door and she carefully pushed it open, entering gun first. Your bed was made, unslept in, and considering you never made your bed, you hadn’t slept in it since the last time Clint had been here.</p><p> </p><p>“Nat!” Clint yelled.</p><p> </p><p>She whirled around to see him lower his bow and rush into the bathroom, calling out your name. She raced after him, freezing in the doorframe when she saw what had him so worried.</p><p> </p><p>You were lying on the floor, your upper body propped against the side of the bathtub. Your eyes were closed and she couldn’t see if your chest was moving at all, but your skin was dull and ashen, dark circles like bruises under your eyes. The acrid smell of vomit lingered in the air, heavy and cloying. She could see the edge of a once white bandage, now brown with dried blood, wrapped around your ribs, under your vomit spotted sports bra.</p><p> </p><p>She had seen corpses look better than you in that moment and she held hear breath while Clint frantically pressed his fingers to your neck, checking for a pulse.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s alive.” He choked out.</p><p> </p><p>The sudden rush of relief that rushed through her veins almost made her feel dizzy, but she kept her composure, quickly pulling out her phone and calling the Shield med team. You were alive, but you might not be for long if you didn’t get help. Clint cupped your face in his hands, calling your name and trying to elicit any kind of response for you while she informed the medical team of your condition. Once she was sure they were on the way she knelt down next to Clint who had pulled you into his arms.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s frozen.” He said tersely, wrapping his arms around your prone form.</p><p> </p><p>She nodded and ran back to the bedroom, tearing the blankets off the bed and taking them back to the bathroom, helping Clint wrap them around you. He held you against his chest while she dug in the bathroom drawers, finding the first-aid kit and retrieving a pair of medical scissors. He peeled back the blankets enough for her to cut away the bandage at your ribs.</p><p> </p><p>“She was shot. It was stitched but they’ve torn, that’s where the bleeding came from.” She told him.</p><p> </p><p>“Look at the coffee table.” He said lowly, looking out of the open bathroom door.</p><p> </p><p>“I know, I saw them.” She said softly.</p><p> </p><p>She’d seen the empty and half-empty bottles of alcohol on her way to the bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>“How did this happen? Why didn’t we know she was back?” He demanded.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know. We’ll ask her when she wakes up.” She answered, taking your limp hand in hers so she could place her fingers on your wrist and feel your weak pulse for herself.</p><p> </p><p>That was how the shield medics found them a few minutes later, quickly and efficiently taking your unconscious body from them and carrying it away on a stretcher.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s going to be ok, she has to be, because I am going to kill her.” Clint vowed, watching you be carted away with a stony expression.</p><p> </p><p>“I have a list of people who are going to pay for this.” Natasha said dangerously.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as the doctor assured them that you while not quite ‘fine’, were going to survive, she set about making her way down that list. While Clint stayed by your side, waiting for you to wake up, she was staring down Fury.</p><p> </p><p>“Romanoff, you know how this works. This information is classified. I can tell you that when she left this building three days ago she was walking upright of her own power and we had no reason to be concerned.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t I believe that’s the whole truth?” She asked coldly.</p><p> </p><p>“We knew about the bullet wound and it was treated. The bullet missed all major organs and once it was stitched up she was discharged. The doctor thinks that if she was throwing up then she may have ripped the stitches while heaving and that’s how she ended up in the state you found her in. We had no reason to check in on her and she wasn’t expected back for her mandatory psyche eval until after the weekend.” He replied calmly.</p><p> </p><p>“Who shot her?” She pushed.</p><p> </p><p>“Someone who is no longer amongst the living. I know you and Barton are very protective of Agent 12 but the only person who can be blamed for her current condition is dead.”</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t have the chance to respond because Hill knocked on the door and opened it.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s waking up, I thought you might want to know.” Maria told her.</p><p> </p><p>She wasn’t finished with this conversation, but it was going nowhere and she needed to see you for herself, so she let it drop.</p><p> </p><p>When Hill said you were awake, she neglected to mention it was barely. You had apparently only woken up long enough to slur out a garbled apology before falling asleep. You didn’t properly wake up until well into the next day.</p><p> </p><p>“What did I miss?” You croaked after she helped you take a sip of water.</p><p> </p><p>“You tell me.” She snapped in rare display of unbridled anger.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t… I don’t actually know what happened. Why am I here?” You frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“You got shot. Apparently you then decided to get blackout drunk.” Clint hissed at you.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh? That’s all you have to say for yourself. You come back from a mission without telling us you were back or that you were injured and then you lock yourself in your apartment and drink yourself to near death! And all you can say is ‘oh’?” Clint raged.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry?”</p><p> </p><p>“Gun… You looked like a fucking corpse. We found you on the bathroom floor.” He said forcefully.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re going to have to do better than ‘sorry’.” Natasha prompted.</p><p> </p><p>“Blood loss and alcohol do not mix. I fucked up, but I didn’t mean to. I won’t make that mistake again, ok? You can relax. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just tired and sore. I was going to call you, really, I just must have blacked out. I’m sorry.” You groaned, your eyes welling up as you looked beseechingly at them.</p><p> </p><p>“If you <em>ever </em>scare us like that again…”</p><p> </p><p>“I won’t!” You interrupted quickly.</p><p> </p><p>All the anger drained out of Clint and he dropped down into his chair, sighing tiredly and reaching out to lace his fingers with yours.</p><p> </p><p>“What happened in Mexico?” Natasha asked softly, eyes searching your expression for any context clues.</p><p> </p><p>She didn’t have to look very hard, the trauma was blatant in your eyes before you closed them and swallowed thickly.  </p><p> </p><p>“It was rough. I’ll get over it.” You sighed.</p><p> </p><p>She wanted to believe you, but something told her that wasn’t the end of it, and she was right. Another few days and several psychological evaluations later and you were discharged from the med wing. She and Clint kept a close eye on you, even Hill stepped up and took several shifts watching you. Even Fury kept checking in on you. Eventually the days turned into weeks, and you were finally cleared to come back to work.</p><p> </p><p>It was business as usual for a while. You were given a few minimal stress assignments, low risk sniping missions mostly. Very Un-Gunslinger like missions, but you went along with it without so much as a peep. Everyone thought you were fine, <em>she </em>thought you were fine. It wasn’t until you tagged along to provide back-up for her and Clint on a mission to rescue a scientist who was being held hostage that everything went south.</p><p> </p><p>The whole mission had gone off with minimal hitches, she and Clint infiltrating the building and systematically taking out the kidnappers while you provided cover from the roof of a nearby building. By the time they hit the basement where the hostage was being held, your part was done since you couldn’t get a visual on them while they were underground. It wasn’t too much of a chink in the plans though, because they stormed the basement and had almost liberated the scientist when they realised their intel had been bad. The scientist wasn’t being held against her will after all, rather she had faked the whole thing so she could betray her government and provide intelligence for the group of radical terrorists.</p><p> </p><p>Nobody had even realised that you’d abandoned your post on the roof to follow them into the building. Not until their target and the few remaining terrorists had surrendered, putting their hands in the air once they realised there was no escape. They were beaten and they knew it, and she was ready to cuff them and take them in when a gunshot sounded from somewhere behind her. The back of the traitorous scientists head exploded, the bullet creating a bigger hole on its exit than it’s entry.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha turned around, weapon already aimed and she nearly shot you before she recognized you.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun what the hell are you doing?” Clint hissed furiously when he saw you stood at the door.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s not a victim after all, and we don’t have orders to take anyone in alive.” You shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>There was no emotion in you at all, just a cold and calculating gaze as you cocked your head to the side and rapidly shot the rest of their prisoners.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun stop! What are you doing?” Clint yelled.</p><p> </p><p>“My job. I’ll fire up the jet.” You replied tonelessly, lowering your gun and turning on your heel and walking away.</p><p> </p><p>Blood and brains dripped down the walls, remnants of the Gunslingers chaos. But the cold unflinching way you had killed was so unlike you. And they hadn’t needed to die, they had surrendered and could have been easily taken in. Natasha wouldn’t mourn them, she had no issue with their execution, but she had issue with the fact that you had been the one to carry it out.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not over-reacting, that was weird? Right.” Clint asked her in a hushed whisper.</p><p> </p><p>“No. You’re not over-reacting.”</p><p> </p><p>That was the start of a disturbing pattern. You’d never ever shied away from killing, but you weren’t an assassin, until you were. Gone was the explosive and excitable nature you had come to be known for, in it’s place was a cold disinterest. A disinterest that started to bleed into your personal life. You stopped pestering Natasha to go to bars and restaurants with you, didn’t drag her to shopping malls every other weekend. You stopped turning up in the rec room to play video games with Clint. You’d only sit and watch movies with them if they turned up at your door, you only went to the Barton farm if they physically steered you onto the Quinjet. You’d hardly ever answer calls, you’d only respond to texts with short clipped sentences, instead of undecipherable memes and strings of emoji’s.</p><p> </p><p>Even your appearance became blander. You put in only minimal effort in your appearance, making sure you were clean and little else. Your hair got longer, uncut, pulled back in a haphazard bun. You wore the same plain t-shirts every day, like clothes had no purpose other than to cover your flesh. Your skin got sallower, gaunter, and the bags under your eyes got darker, highlighting the broken capillaries and blood-shot tinge that became permeant in your eyes.</p><p> </p><p>You hardly slept, you barely ate, and all the while you would insist you were fine, but you clearly weren’t. And the more they tried to pull you back in, the further you pulled away. She cornered Fury and Clint cornered Hill, demanding that you be given time off. Rehab centre’s were researched and checked out, Laura tried to convince you to stay at the farm for a while, Natasha even offered to take you away on an extended vacation, but you ignored all attempts to help you.</p><p> </p><p>By the time Natasha and Clint had reached the end of their respective ropes and decided to do what they had to do to get you somewhere safe, it was too late. The Triskelion fell, and you with it.</p><p> </p><p>Or so they thought.  </p><p> </p><p>~~~Today~~~</p><p> </p><p>“I need muscles! Clint hasn’t got any.” You yelled.</p><p> </p><p>The three soldiers quickly hustled into the weapons room at your call, chivalrously coming to your aid.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re just trying to goad me into carrying your shit. I’m not falling for it.” Clint scoffed, shaking his head at you.</p><p> </p><p>“Where do you want these?” Bucky asked, carrying two massive metal cases filled with guns and ammo.</p><p> </p><p>Your eyes widened at the display of brute strength.</p><p> </p><p>“Car… garage… wow…” You stammered.</p><p> </p><p>He noticed your visible awe and winked, effortlessly hauling the cases out of the room. Steve was hot on his heels, three cases piled in his arms.</p><p> </p><p>“Aww, they’re showing off for you. Luckily some of us don’t feel the need to flex our muscles to distract from our lack of personality.” Sam joked, fist bumping Clint.  </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know, you’re all fun to talk to and to look at. Expect you Hawk, you’re repulsive.” You said sweetly.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you have to leave? You could stay for dinner, meet everyone else.” Sam interjected, cutting the bickering short before it could start.</p><p> </p><p>“Stay. Come on.” Clint agreed.</p><p> </p><p>“Dinner, and that’s it.” You acquiesced.</p><p> </p><p>You followed a pleased Sam and smug Clint out of the gym, pushing aside the growing sense of trepidation.  You’d already stayed longer than you intended and now you were agreeing to stay for dinner, giving them more opportunity to try and recruit you. You could feel the walls closing in on you and you weren’t sure how long you could push them back.</p><p> </p><p>Your years of solitude had given your emotional wounds time to scab over, but one wrong move and the wounds could be ripped back open. Every moment spent around this life was reminding you why you had ran away in the first place, and you knew that sooner or later you were either going to have to stitch your wounds closed, or bleed out.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Unfinished Business</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Somewhere between the gym and the kitchen you had managed to lose Clint. Or he had lost you. Either way, it left you alone with Sam, which you weren’t terribly upset about. The man had the figure of…well… a superhero, a grin that made you want to smile back, and the kindest eyes you had ever seen. </p><p> </p><p>“How are you holding up?” He asked you.</p><p> </p><p>His tone could read as causal or concerned and you had a feeling he’d made it that way on purpose. You could use this as an opportunity to open up to him about any nerves or anxieties you had, or you could brush it off as a platitude. He had left the choice up to you.</p><p> </p><p>“By my bootstraps.” You told him, in an overly-exaggerated southern accent that didn’t actually exist outside of Hollywood.</p><p> </p><p>“Miss Earp, Sergeant Barnes asked me to tell you he’s waiting on the roof for you.” A disembodied voice informed you.</p><p> </p><p>“Judging by the fact the voice called me Earp, I’m guessing it has something to do with Stark. And if it’s Stark, it’s gotta be an AI.” You deduced, gazing at the ceiling with suspicion.</p><p> </p><p>“Not only a pretty face, are you?” Sam smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“It took you this long to figure that out? I’m offended.”</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve got me there. My bad, my bad.” He joked, holding up his hands in mock surrender.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you joining us on the roof?”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, I’ll let you and Barnes have your fun. I’m going to help Wanda make the meal. Figure if we impress you enough, you’ll be more inclined to stay.” He joked.</p><p> </p><p>Though you suspected it wasn’t actually a joke. He stopped in front of an elevator that immediately opened, and pompously bowed you into it.</p><p> </p><p>“There’s a good chance I will move in for good food if nothing else.” You admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“Noted.”</p><p> </p><p>You waited until the doors were hallways closed before you added an addendum.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, I am an incredibly fussy eater.”</p><p> </p><p>As the doors closed, you could hear him yell for Clint, and smirked to yourself.</p><p> </p><p>“So, what’s your name, Miss AI?” You asked the ceiling.</p><p> </p><p>“Female Replacement Intelligent Digital Assistant Youth – or, simply Friday. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Slinger.” She answered.</p><p> </p><p>“Miss Slinger, first name Gun? And I thought Stark was a supposed genius.” You snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“Surprisingly, I am not programmed to come to his defence but I will point out that even Mr Stark remembers to pick a floor when he gets into an elevator.” Friday sassed.</p><p> </p><p>“Roof, please?” You winced, both embarrassed and amused at having been called out by an AI.</p><p> </p><p>“Certainly Miss Slinger.” Friday said, and the elevator rose upwards smoothly.</p><p> </p><p>When the doors opened, it was to reveal a pacing Bucky Barnes.</p><p> </p><p>“There you are, I thought the birdbrains were holding you hostage.” He sighed, looking almost relieved that you had shown up.</p><p> </p><p>“If they were, would you have launched a rescue mission?” You asked, picturing it with amusement.</p><p> </p><p>“No. I would have come to watch you pluck their feathers though.” He snorted.</p><p> </p><p>Damn, that was a good answer. He led you onto the roof, surveying the compounds grounds.</p><p> </p><p>“”Targets are on the west side, by the trees. Friday keeps people away from that part of the grass when we’re shooting, so you don’t need to worry about accidentally shooting at someone.” He explained.</p><p> </p><p>There were at your count, 22 human shaped and sized silhouettes, spaced between a 100 to 600 feet away.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve only ever accidentally shot someone once, and I don’t make the same mistake twice.” You muttered, your lips twitching at the memory.</p><p> </p><p>He gave you a curious look and you shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Clint. Paintball gun.” You explained.</p><p> </p><p>“What did he do?” Bucky smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“Shot me back, at point blank range, several times. I couldn’t walk straight for a week.” You winced.</p><p> </p><p>“You two seem close. Even after… everything.” He stated.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s sometimes my best friend, sometimes annoying big brother, occasional father figure. He’s on his way to forgiving me.” You explained.</p><p> </p><p>“And Natasha?”</p><p> </p><p>“She worked out her frustrations. You know Nat, she doesn’t hold grudges if she can just get even.” You groaned, still mildly put out about being drugged and kidnapped.</p><p> </p><p>“I mean are you close?” He corrected.</p><p> </p><p>There was something shift about the way he was studiously studying the rifle in his hands and avoiding your gaze.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s complicated. She’s like family, but not family. We’re so alike in many ways, and so different in others. Makes it hard for us to meet in the middle.” You elaborated for him.</p><p> </p><p>It probably didn’t clear much up, but it was the best you could do. If you told him that you loved them both, but you were closer to Clint than Nat, but they were closer to each other, he would probably pity you. You weren’t sad about it, you never had been. They’d know each other longer, and been through a lot together. It didn’t diminish the friendship they had with you, and you’d never had a reason to feel jealous about it. Besides, you could work in a team, but were better as a lone wolf.</p><p> </p><p>“Sounds like me and Sam. Don’t tell him I said that though.” He scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t worry Sarge, your secret is safe with me.” You vowed solemnly, too solemnly for the situation, and as you hoped, it made him laugh.</p><p> </p><p>“Here. Stark helped me make this, what do you think?” He asked, passing the rifle over to you.</p><p> </p><p>“What did you do to it?” You asked, turning it over in your hands.</p><p> </p><p>It was heavy, sleek and mildly familiar. It looked like it was based on the AW50, a 50 calibre bolt-action rifle used by the British Special Air Service, Royal Marines and various special forces across the world. It was missing it’s adjustable bipod and monopod though, which made sense. Super Soldiers probably didn’t need increased stability on their weapons, they were capable of handling it themselves. The high-tech gadget scope had also been replaced.</p><p> </p><p>“It was too high-tech. It was supposed to calculate distance, wind resistance etc, but I prefer to do that myself.” He explained.</p><p> </p><p>“Me too.” You admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“Kind of. I can’t calculate shit. Most snipers have a mathematical brain but if you ask Clint, I don’t have a brain at all. I see, I point, I shoot. Can’t really explain how I know to adjust for wind or distance, my brain just figures it out automatically.” You shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re just a natural. Go on, show me what you’ve got, Gunslinger.”</p><p> </p><p>You knelt down behind the ledge, resting the rifle on it and getting into position.</p><p> </p><p>“Hang on. It has strong recoil, since it was made for a Super Soldier.” Bucky warned, kneeling behind you and pulling your shoulder back a few centimetres.</p><p> </p><p>You instinctively held your breath as his hand slid under your arm, the warmth of his skin seeping through your clothes. He jolted your arm up a few inches, so the shoulder the rifle was resting on was further back and higher than your other shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“If you wanted to get up close and personal with me, I have to admit, letting me play with a sniper rifle was the way to do it.” You smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“Had a feeling dangerous weapons would be the way to your heart.” He snorted good-naturedly.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, you wanna know the real way to my heart?” You asked.</p><p> </p><p>Before he could answer you glanced through the scope and pulled the trigger. The bullet whizzed across the grounds and ripped through the target furthest away.</p><p> </p><p>“Through the chest, same as everybody else.” You grinned.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn, doll.” He shook his head softly in amusement at the target with a bullet hole where the heart would be.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a gorgeous weapon. Too heavy and strong for most humans, perfect for you. I wouldn’t want to use it in the field unless I had no other options, but it’s sure as hell fun to play with. You’re up, Sarge.” You told him, passing the rifle over.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t hesitate, aiming and firing faster than you had ever seen anyone handle a gun before. You searched all the targets to see where he’d hit, almost thinking he’d missed when you found no bullet holes. You let out a low whistle of surprise and admiration when you realised the hole you’d made had two bullets in it now.</p><p> </p><p>“You just made this into a competition, you do realise that?” You asked him.</p><p> </p><p>He looked over at you, his eyes darkening a touch.</p><p> </p><p>“Heart shots only, first to miss loses.”</p><p> </p><p>~~~One Hour Later~~~</p><p> </p><p>Bucky had led you to what was apparently Clint’s room before he set off the put his rifle away. But before you had the chance to raise your hand and knock on the door, someone called your name from the end of the corridor.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I have that talk with you now?” Steve asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.” You shrugged, leaving Clint’s door untouched as you fell into step beside the Captain.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t lead you far, opening a door a few down from Clint’s and holding it for you.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, not the kind of business I thought we were getting down to. And here I thought all you 40’s fella’s were gentlemen.” You smirked, looking around at the pristine bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s empty. This isn’t mine.” He said quickly, looking a little flustered.</p><p> </p><p>“Afraid I’ll muss up your sheets, Cap?” You teased.</p><p> </p><p>He gave you a warning look that did nothing to hide the amusement in his eyes. He was probably immune to your teasing, having been inoculated by Natasha.</p><p> </p><p>“Tony pulled up your file from all the Shield data that was leaked. Remarkably it was missing a lot of data, like your name, age, where you were born. But it did list your skills and capabilities. So with your permission, we’d like to add you as a consultant. We could bring you in on missions where your knowledge and abilities could be useful. For a fee of course, Tony’s pretty excited about making weaponry for you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m far too paranoid to let any government agency file my details. Which turned out to be not very paranoid at all, just common sense. You can bring me in as a consultant, but I’m not going to be exclusively helping The Avengers, you do realise that?” You asked him.</p><p> </p><p>“Who will you be working for?” He asked worriedly.</p><p> </p><p>“Myself. I’ll help you, Fury if he asks nicely, any of the 400,00 Vigilantes running about, X-Men, X-Force, Fantastic Four, Wakanda. I still have old contacts all over, they’ll get the word out that I’m alive. If I’m back, and it looks like I am, I’m doing it my way. I won’t be a pawn in someone else’s game again, so at least if I’m tricked it’s on me and not beyond my control.” You told him firmly.</p><p> </p><p>“None of us were happy to realise Shield was infected by Hydra.” He reminded you.</p><p> </p><p>“No, we weren’t. I was barely hanging on by a thread and then I found out that all the things I had done, the things that I justified as being for the greater good, they were serving a completely different cause. It’s hard to come to terms with the things you’ve done when you don’t have responsibility. I won’t put myself in that position again.” You told him.</p><p> </p><p>He studied you, a little taken aback by how forthcoming you were being.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I ask you a question?” He requested.</p><p> </p><p>“You can ask. I might not want to answer it though.” You sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You worked closely with Natasha and Clint, and you’re obviously extremely skilled…”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s not a question.” You frowned, wondering where he was going with it.</p><p> </p><p>“Why weren’t you brought in with them on The Avengers Initiative?” He questioned.</p><p> </p><p>That wasn’t what you had expected him to ask at all. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh. That. I was considered for it but I didn’t make the cut.” You explained.</p><p> </p><p>“Shame. We could have used you in New York. It’s a pity you weren’t on the Hellicarrier that day, we might have met a lot sooner.” He pointed out, smiling a little forlornly.</p><p> </p><p>“I was taking vacation time when it all went down, visiting family.” You said apologetically.</p><p> </p><p>“Why wouldn’t you make the cut thought? You’re perfect. For the team, perfect for the team, for The Avengers.”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t know me that well.” You laughed gently.</p><p> </p><p>“I know Nat and Barton speak highly of you, you have an impressive skillset, you’re good at taking the initiative, you think outside the box, you’re easy to get along with, you worked for Shield so you can take orders. There’s just one problem. You don’t want to join. I don’t need to know why, I’ll respect it. Just know that if you ever change your mind, I think there could be a place for you here.” He said, looking around the room with purpose.</p><p> </p><p>The implication was obvious. This could be your room, if you ever wanted it. For perhaps the first time in your life, you didn’t know what to say. Where others called you reckless and impulsive, he saw admirable qualities. He wasn’t trying to change your mind or convince you, just letting you know how he felt and respecting how you felt in turn. He was telling you he didn’t need to pry into your past to find out why you were the way you were, he was willing to accept you as you were.</p><p> </p><p>“Thank you.” You said, the words heavy on your lips.</p><p> </p><p>You were thanking him for more than just the offer, and the way he looked at you made you think he realised that.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re welcome. Let’s go find the others, I believe you were promised dinner?” He said easily, breaking the slight emotional tension.</p><p> </p><p>He opened the door and held it for you, and as he fell into step beside you found yourself re-evaluating your position. You’d decided to Freelance because you had realised you couldn’t ever really retire The Gunslinger, but you didn’t want to fall back into your old life.</p><p> </p><p>But The Avengers weren’t Shield, and Steve Rogers wasn’t Nick Fury.</p><p> </p><p>You weren’t quite ready to get measured for a super-suit just yet, but you decided to be open-minded during dinner instead of resolute and unwavering.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, there she is, the guest of honour. I saved you a seat!” Sam crowed excitedly as soon as he saw you and Steve walk into the dining room.</p><p> </p><p>“Spoiler alert, he doesn’t mean a chair, he means his…” Tony sniggered, interrupted before he could finish his sentence.</p><p> </p><p>“Tony!”</p><p> </p><p>“Stark.”</p><p> </p><p>“Lap. I was only going to say lap.” Tony finished, trying to look innocent, wandering over to you.</p><p> </p><p>He had no sooner handed you the glass of wine in his hand than it had been smoothly snatched out of your hand by Natasha and replaced with a glass of juice by Clint. Old habits died hard apparently, because they didn’t even seem to realise what they’d done.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, assholes, I’m lacking bullet holes at the moment. Gimme back the alcohol.” You bitched quietly. Whisper-bitched. </p><p> </p><p>Natasha glanced between the glass in her hand and your annoyed expression before she held it back out to you with a blank expression.</p><p> </p><p>“You won’t like it.” She warned.</p><p> </p><p>You scoffed and took a ridiculously large gulp of the wine, and immediately regretted it. Natasha quirked her eyebrow as if to say ‘I told you so’ and you handed her the glass back.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry. I just assumed that someone who owned a bar would appreciate a good vintage. Maybe it’s just too rich for your blood, I’ll get you something a little less classy.” Tony taunted, having looked back in time to see you shaking your head as if it would get rid of the taste.</p><p> </p><p>“Just because something’s rich, doesn’t give it class. You of all people should know that.” You shot back.</p><p> </p><p>“Nicely done. This should suit you better, you like them aged, right?” He teased jubilantly, rewarding your wit with a glass of liquor that was more to your taste.</p><p> </p><p>“Only if they age better than you do.” You told him, taking your seat.</p><p> </p><p>“Ouch. Vetoed, She’s been vetoed, she can’t stay.” He announced, rolling his eyes when he was studiously ignored.</p><p> </p><p>You found yourself between Sam and Wanda, smiling warmly at Sam before you turned to Wanda who was trying to draw you into a friendly conversation. You patiently answered all of her enthusiastic questions about your personal brand of bad-assery, managing to get in a few questions of your own. Her powers fascinated you, especially the more physical aspects and she happily chattered away to you about them while Sam kept shovelling food onto your plate.</p><p> </p><p>You were impressed with the young girl. Impressed by her strength of character and kindness, her desire to learn and grow. She knew she was powerful, and she owned it, but she wanted more control of her abilities.</p><p> </p><p>“I can help you practice with the control. I can set off some explosions, see if you can move them away from me in time.” You offered.</p><p> </p><p>“That sounds dangerous.” Wanda frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s what makes it fun.”</p><p> </p><p>“GUN NO!” Clint yelled from the other side of the table, having read your lips.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun yes.” You whispered to Wanda, hiding your mouth with your glass.</p><p> </p><p>The witch giggled at your antics and you resisted the urge to file adoption paperwork. You’d never had a mentoree before, but you suddenly wanted one. Her powers were rife with chaotic potential, a direct juxtaposition to her sweet manner.</p><p> </p><p>Doctor banners voice drifted down the table, breaking through your inner thoughts and snapping up your attention.</p><p> </p><p>“If you’re going to set loose a virus that needs to infect as much of humanity as possible, Egypt is a pretty good starting point. It has land borders with Asia and Africa - two major continents. It also has a lot of air and water traffic. If you can infect Egypt, Egypt can infect the rest of the world.” Bruce mused, scientific excitement taking over.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that typical dinner conversation? I thought Avengers saved the world, not made plans on how best to end it.” You asked Sam.</p><p> </p><p>Bruce looked over at you having heard you and shook his head defensively.</p><p> </p><p>“We were discussing your Doctor Fransman. He was stationed in Egypt, I believe that’s where he developed the virus.” He explained.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course, makes sense. Did you make any headway on his notes?” You asked casually.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s fascinating actually. It seems the virus was capable of protecting and incubating the nanotech while it dispersed. The virus itself is an airborne one and can survive outside of the host for hours, retaining its infectivity.” Bruce informed you.</p><p> </p><p>“What was the nanotech be for?” Wanda asked.</p><p> </p><p>“A multitude of things, there’s really no way of narrowing down what its function was without any more information.” Tony answered her.</p><p> </p><p>“What about this Dr Fransman?” Steve cut in, drawing the rest of the tables attention to the conversation.</p><p> </p><p>“Well he’s dead so we can’t ask him.” Bruce said.</p><p> </p><p>“He was killed a few years ago.” Natasha added.</p><p> </p><p>“Do we know who by?” Sam wondered. </p><p> </p><p>“Gun.” Natasha said, making you look up at her with a shocked and horrified expression.</p><p> </p><p>“What?” You snapped.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve been looking into this. Any ideas who might have killed the Doctor?” She asked.</p><p> </p><p>“He died in an Earthquake. So… mother nature is the culprit?” You shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“The doctor, Fransman, he made the virus but he didn’t have anything to do with the nanotech. He must have been collaborating with someone, which means that someone else might know the formula.” Bruce sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a good thing I brought this to you instead of going to Fury.” You mused aloud.</p><p> </p><p>“Why’s that?” Steve asked with a quizzical expression.</p><p> </p><p>You had thought it was obvious but played along anyway. </p><p> </p><p>“Alright, here’s a riddle for you. Two genius’s create a virus, one’s a bio expert, the other is tech expert. If you can get a sample of the virus, who’s got the best shot of making a vaccine?” You asked, tilting your head to stare down the table at Stark and Banner.</p><p> </p><p>“Fortuitous. If I didn’t know better, I would say you’d planned this.” Natasha drawled.</p><p> </p><p>Your eyes met hers across the table and you stared unblinkingly back at her.</p><p> </p><p>“Does anyone else get the impression that Romanoff has something she wants to share?” Tony asked.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t have anything I want to share, how about you, Gun?” She responded crisply.</p><p> </p><p>She knew something. She had to. The question was, how much did she know? If she knew everything, she was remaining remarkably calm about it. You needed to head her off before she uncovered the full story.</p><p> </p><p>“I suspected that there was more than one person behind the virus. That’s why I helped you retrieve the sample and brought you the formula. If someone manages to make another batch of this stuff, Stark and Dr Banner are the best chance for a vaccine. Be it immunization or a cure.” You admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“Between the formula and the sample Fury has, we can likely do that. But we’ll need to study the nanobots ensconced in the virus’s molecules before we can say if we can disable or counter-act them.” Stark said.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha was still staring you down, and you were still staring back.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I talk to you?” You asked her coldly, standing up.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure.” She said, not moving.</p><p> </p><p>“In private.” You added.</p><p> </p><p>“Why, got something to hide?” She asked coldly.</p><p> </p><p>“Red.” You snarled.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun.” She shot back calmly.</p><p> </p><p>You exhaled heavily through your nose, gritting your teeth at her difficult attitude. The rest of the room had gone silent, watching the subtle battle of will going on between you and her.</p><p> </p><p>“How much do you know?” You hissed, squeezing the back of the chair you’d just vacated until your knuckles turned white.</p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t you tell us everything and then I’ll tell you how much I’d already figured out.” She offered.</p><p> </p><p>You closed your eyes and breathed in slowly, counting to ten in your head. When you hit ten you opened your eyes and spun the chair around abruptly, straddling it and taking a deep breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Fury brought me back for this mission specifically, because I’ve been tracking the virus since I worked for Shield. When doctor Fransman died and his lab was buried under a pile of rubble, we thought the virus was gone. When it resurfaced a few months ago, Fury put you on the trail, and then decided it was time to bring me back. I refused him initially, but he left me your mission file for attack on that AIM lab, knowing it would draw me back in. He knew I would see the virus as unfinished business.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know who the second scientist is?” Bruce asked gently, prodding and not pushing.</p><p> </p><p>“No. I don’t. At least I don’t know his or her name. I know that they are AIM’s Scientist Supreme.”</p><p> </p><p>You let your eyes flicker down, you didn’t want to see the look on anyone’s face when you said this part.</p><p> </p><p>“Whoever they are, they nearly killed me when I faced off against them in Mexico.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Dead Don't Lie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>~~~Then~~~</p><p> </p><p>“It’s a simple objective, get in, retrieve the files, get out.”</p><p> </p><p>You cocked your head like a confused puppy and stared at Agent Hill in bewilderment.</p><p> </p><p>“Agent 12?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t understand.” You said slowly.</p><p> </p><p>“We have intel that AIM is working on something dangerous and we need more information. Your job is to sneak inside and download the files off of their computer. Just find a computer and insert this USB, it will do the rest of the work.” She explained for the dozenth time, looking more and more exhausted with every repetition.</p><p> </p><p>“Go in, plug in the USB, and then I blow up the building?” You asked hopefully.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun, no!”</p><p> </p><p>“Well when do I blow it up?” You whined petulantly.</p><p> </p><p>“At no point. This is a stealth mission!” She snapped.</p><p> </p><p>You cocked your head again.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah. There’s more to the story than you’re telling me. I’m not the Agent you send for stealth, that’s Nat or 13. What’s really going on here?” You scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“Fury wanted to send Romanoff for this, I talked him into sending you instead.” Hill admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“Why the bloody fuck would you do that? It’s too boring for me.” You insisted.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s why. You think it’s boring, you say you don’t do these missions, but you can do them. You’re a far more valuable asset than Fury or yourself give you credit for.” She said firmly.</p><p> </p><p>“When I agreed to be one of Fury’s Angels, I said I would put my skillset to use for Shield. At the time of joining, my skillset was shooting people and blowing things up. I might have learnt a thing or two since joining up, but there’s nothing in our original agreement that says I have to use my new skills.” You told her smugly, exploiting a loophole.</p><p> </p><p>“No, you signed yourself over to Shield to serve out your sentence with us instead of in a cell. You’re not just with us for life, it was multiple life-sentences we saved you from. You owe us everything you are capable of, but more importantly, you owe it to yourself.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a low blow.”</p><p> </p><p>~~~Now~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Shield was acting off of partial intel. They didn’t yet know about the virus, just that AIM was working on something big and so they identified an isolated facility in Corozal Bay and sent me in. It was supposedly just a warehouse, not heavily manned. My objective was to sneak in and use Shield tech get into their computer system.” You began, everyone at the table listening to you with rapt attention.</p><p> </p><p>“Fury sent you on a stealth mission?” Clint asked, rightfully confused.</p><p> </p><p>“No, of course not. He wanted the base blown, he just wanted the files first.” You shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m going to take a wild guess here and say that the facility was more than just a warehouse?” Sam asked.</p><p> </p><p>You faltered as you tried to think of how to answer him, how to tell this story. Clint noticed your struggle, but it wasn’t him that spoke next.</p><p> </p><p>“Is there any way you can identify this Scientist Supreme?” Steve asked.</p><p> </p><p>“No.” You sighed apologetically.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you have any idea or suspicions about where to find them now?” He followed up.</p><p> </p><p>“None.”</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know what the nanotech was for?” He pressed.</p><p> </p><p>“No.” You whispered, hanging your head.</p><p> </p><p>“Then this conversation is over. If you don’t have anything we absolutely need to know then there’s no reason for this.” He decided authoritatively.</p><p> </p><p>You looked up, your eyes seeking out Natasha. She had her blank mask on, and even after all the time you had known her, you couldn’t see through it.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s all right.” You said heavily.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun…” Clint beseeched.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha remained silent.</p><p> </p><p>“No, let’s just do this. Let’s just get it done. Rip off the band-aid before the wounds fester anymore.” You spat angrily, venom lacing your tone.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t aimed at him, or any of them, not even Natasha. It was all internal.</p><p> </p><p>“For over a week I watched the warehouse, learnt the patterns of the guards, and deduced the best way to get inside. It was a cakewalk…”</p><p> </p><p>~~~Then~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Eww, something touched my leg!” You whimpered quietly.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s only seaweed. Probably.” Hill said calmly in your ear.</p><p> </p><p>Easy for her to say, she was safe on dry land. You were the one wading through what was probably a very beautiful bay, in the daylight. Under cover of darkness, it had taken on a sinister appearance, the surface of the water reflecting the dark sky perfectly and giving no hints as to what lay underneath. You moved carefully, testing each step before you took it, moving slowly to minimise any ripples. The jet black stealthsuit you were clad in helped you blend into your surroundings, and even if someone did spot you, you imagined they would probably mistake you for a seal or something. The water-tight rucksack on your back helping add to your misshaped appearance.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, do they have seals in Mexico?” You wondered out loud, albeit it in a whisper.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m your handler, not SIRI. Just focus on the mission.” Hill griped.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s mission related.” You insisted.</p><p> </p><p>The comms picked up the slight aggravated sigh she let out before she surprisingly answered.</p><p> </p><p>“The marine mammals of the Gulf of Mexico consist of whales, dolphins and one species of coastal sirenian, the West Indian manatee (Trichechus manatus). There are no seals, sea lions, fur seals, or sea-going otters as are present in many other parts of the world.” She recited, clearly having googled it.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh. Learn something new every day.” You snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“You should be approaching the bank now. Stay low.” She warned.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I see it. There’s two guards, about 40 meters apart, stationary. Commencing surveillance mode.” You whispered.</p><p> </p><p>You sunk low into the water, until only your head was visible, and very gracefully crawled onto the bank. You didn’t look like an idiot at all. You found a mildly steep patch of embankment to shuffle up, hiding behind some underbrush that was barely a bush. From there you had a decent vantage point and moving as silently as you could, you slid the backpack off your shoulders and opened it. Blindly digging around in the bag of weapons you’d stored in the sack to keep dry, you rummaged until your hand closed around the handle of a 9mm Glock and you pulled it free before you settled in to observe the one-story building, and the two visible guards who were watching the perimeter.</p><p> </p><p>It only took you about 12 seconds to become impatient, and unable to pester Hill in case you were overheard, you settled for counting the beige bricks on the building. After a whole hour, a very long hour, you were fairly certain you had figured out the guards pattern. It seemed they checked in on their walkies every 20 minutes. You could absolutely find a computer in 20 minutes.</p><p> </p><p>You waited until they had both checked in again, and started your internal countdown. With your infamously good aim, you quickly took down the two guards with head-shots. You counted to 30 to make sure their deaths hadn’t alerted anyone and stood up, rapidly unpacking the small arsenal from your back-pack and inserting your guns into all their holsters.</p><p> </p><p>“Security guards disengaged. Aka – I done shot them both the head. Looks like they have key-cards on their belts, taking one to gain entry into the building.” You informed Hill.</p><p> </p><p>“Good work Agent. Keeping comms open now.” Hill said, almost sounding proud, or at least hopeful.</p><p> </p><p>You sprinted across the open space, only stopping to swipe one of the key-cards, and raced towards the nearest patch of wall, flattening yourself against it. You followed the wall around until you came across the door.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve found the door, no windows so I can’t see inside. I can’t tell whats going to be waiting for me once I get in.” You whispered.</p><p> </p><p>Hill didn’t respond.</p><p> </p><p>“Agent Hill? Do you copy?” You frowned.</p><p> </p><p>Nothing.</p><p> </p><p>Either the comms system had failed, which was highly unlikely, or something was blocking them. Something inside the building. It might mean you had been found out, or it could just be a security measure. A blanket disrupter that attacked all frequencies the facility wasn’t on.</p><p> </p><p>“Hill? Agent Hill this is Agent 12, do you copy? No? Well in that case I want to tell you that your icy demeanour isn’t as scary as you think It is, it’s actually hella hot.” You bravely informed her.</p><p> </p><p>No response. You were definitely alone. You didn’t think she’d be too happy if you went wandering back to the drop point empty-handed just because you’d lost communications, so you ventured onwards. All it took was a swipe of the key-card in the door, and it clicked open.</p><p> </p><p>You wondered why the shit security, but the question was quickly answered. The door opened to reveal that the building wasn’t just empty, it was utterly bare. Four walls, an open space and a metric tonne of dust, but absolutely nothing else. Or at least nothing you could see. Shield were positive this was a warehouse, and those guards weren’t the guardians of mothballs. Not to mention something was definitely blocking your comms.</p><p> </p><p>You looked at the floor curiously. There had to be a sub-level, there <em>had </em>to be.</p><p> </p><p>“If I were an elevator or a staircase, where would I be hiding?” You wondered, creeping around the room, keeping to the shadows.</p><p> </p><p>You were starting to really believe that this building was empty, the guards nothing more than a red herring. The thick layer of undisturbed dust that covered everything was killing off any lingering hope of their being a hidden underground facility, but as it turned out, the dust was what showed you the way.</p><p> </p><p>One seemingly ordinary patch of wall had a layer of dust on it that was almost imperceptibly lighter than the rest of the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Dear Santa, if this is a hidden door I promise to stop leaving lumps of coal in Fury’s office ever year on your behalf.” You vowed.</p><p> </p><p>You studied the wall, unable to see any signs of a way to open the potential hidden space. Since there wasn’t a nifty bookshelf for you pull books off of, you started pushing at random bricks.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, come on, come on, YES!” You whisper shouted, pumping your fist in the air.</p><p> </p><p>A seemingly normal brick pushed back into the wall with a loud click, and the wall started to move. You remembered to arm yourself just in time, abandoning your victory dance and pointing your gun into the empty… elevator.</p><p> </p><p>“Knew it.” You congratulated yourself, stepping inside.</p><p> </p><p>There was only one button inside the old rickety elevator, and with lack of option you pressed it. It jolted to life with a lot of creaking and began crawling up, not down. Your eyes widened comically as you realised it was carrying you towards the sky, far surpassing the height of the building.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s impossible. Unless…. Oh shit.”</p><p> </p><p>The quinjets had cloaking tech, what if the building did as well? What if what you’d thought was a one-story building was actually a tower block. It was the only logical explanation, because you were still going up. It sounded almost unbelievable, but your years with shield had led you to realise that weird was the norm. You had no idea how high up you were, but by the speed of the elevator and the length of the journey, it had to be at least a couple hundred feet. You finally jolted to a stop, and by the time the elevator doors creaked open, you were nowhere to be seen.</p><p> </p><p>You waited for someone to come in and investigate, but nobody did. Only then did you drop from the ceiling, rolling your shoulder to ease the strain that pressing yourself to the roof had caused.</p><p> </p><p>There was a long brightly lit corridor, but like the lower floors, it was empty. You exited the elevator, proceeding with absolute caution as you made your way down the hall. Almost every room you passed was abandoned.</p><p> </p><p>Your skulking and sneaking was for naught, because you found the computer room without stumbling across a single person. There were dozens of consoles and hubs, all beeping and whirring. You searched around until you found somewhere to plug the USB in, obviously trying to insert it the wrong way up at first. The led light on it flickered orange, which you assumed meant it was working. Traffic light system. Hopefully it would turn green when it was time to go.</p><p> </p><p>There were two windows, and you could see the dark waters of the bay, so far away from you. You really were in an invisible tower.</p><p> </p><p>You found the lack of people in the facility strange to say the least, but theorised that maybe it just wasn’t that important to AIM and the two guards outside were it. It actually seemed like the whole facility was abandoned. You had no sooner convinced yourself that you had gotten lucky for once when a faint bang sounded down the corridor.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh good, I was wondering when the horror movie theatrics were going to start.” You muttered to yourself, peeking out of the door.</p><p> </p><p>You followed the direction the noise had come from, using all of your super spy skills and keeping your gun at the ready. There was one door down the corridor, and a quick peek through the small glass window on it had you flattening yourself against the wall and silently muttering every curse word you could think of.</p><p> </p><p>There were dozens of people in the room, all standing still. On reflection, you realised they had been too still, and after a quick internal pep talk, you chanced a second glance inside.</p><p> </p><p>At least three dozen people, all standing still and silent in the dark room. If it weren’t for the glint of metal you saw, you wouldn’t have figured out exactly what it was you were looking at.</p><p> </p><p>What you had initially mistaken for a room full of people was actually a room full of stationary robots. A sensible person may have left that room undisturbed, but not a shield agent. Besides, maybe you’d got lucky and it was Stark’s metal suits in there. He was a consultant, and a hero, maybe he was here investigating.</p><p> </p><p>You knew it was unlikely, and you were right, because as you snuck into the room and looked around you could see these things were not Stark tech. They were completely human shaped, more I-Robot than Iron Man. You shuddered to imagine what AIM was planning with the dozens of dark metal contraptions.</p><p> </p><p>“Who are you?” A voice asked from behind you.</p><p> </p><p>You spun around, firing at the sneaky bastard. The bullet dinged harmlessly off of a robot and you swore, unable to find who had spoken. </p><p> </p><p>“I think the better question is who the hell are you?” You replied.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you Shield? It seems likely. What brings you to my facility, agent.” He continued, ignoring your questions.</p><p> </p><p>“Not Shield. Travelling Bible salesperson, have you heard the good word?” You rebutted.</p><p> </p><p>“There are no other life-signs here. You are alone. Who are you that they would send you alone? Someone extremely skilled, or someone expendable?” They mused, sounding almost thoughtful.</p><p> </p><p>Well, that would explain what the real reason you had been sent on a stealth mission was.</p><p> </p><p>“I suppose it doesn’t matter which it is. You’ll die regardless.” They said, from the other side of the room.</p><p> </p><p>You spun around again, cursing your own stupidity.</p><p> </p><p>“Just because the robot army looks powered down, doesn’t mean it’s powered down.” You groaned out loud.</p><p> </p><p>“No, it doesn’t.” A symphony of the voice agreed, layered over each other.</p><p> </p><p>As one they moved, turning their heads and looking directly at you, eyes glowing red at you through the darkness.</p><p> </p><p>“I can see you’re not interested in the Bible, sorry to bother you, I’ll be on my way now.” You offered, gulping nervously.</p><p> </p><p>They moved, smoothly and robotically. You knew you couldn’t shoot metal, so you aimed at the nearest one, zeroing on those glowing red eyes, and pulled the trigger.</p><p> </p><p>It wasn’t unlike shooting a human, the back of the metal skull exploded, splattering the robot behind it with.. whatever the hell made those things tick. In the darkness, the spray of oil that leaked from it had almost looked red. It crumped to the floor, no longer a threat, and you pulled a second gun from your belt, firing them simultaneously.</p><p> </p><p>You spun around, always aiming for the eyes, never missing, dropping robot bodies in a hail of gunfire. But for every one you shot, two more were behind it. </p><p> </p><p>“Ah, yes, I see who you are now. The infamous Gunslinger. I confess, I thought you were nothing more than Urban Legend.” One of them said, seconds before you blew its metaphorical brains out.</p><p> </p><p>“You have me at a disadvantage. I don’t know who you are.” You cackled, continuing to fire as you ducked and weaved through them, getting your back to a wall so nothing could sneak up behind you.</p><p> </p><p>“Have I not introduced myself? Forgive me. I am The Scientist Supreme in… well not quite the flesh. My body is elsewhere at the moment so I am using these very helpful inventions of mine.” He said.</p><p> </p><p>They were advancing on you almost too quickly, stepping over their fallen counterparts only to be taken out by your carefully placed bullets, another monstrosity stepping up to take their place. The room was crawling with them, literally, some of them had made their way onto the walls and ceiling, defying gravity. They were a nightmare personified.</p><p> </p><p>You didn’t falter, you didn’t dare let yourself falter, staying firmly in that calm place in your mind where all that mattered was the aiming and firing of the weapons in your hands. The gut-wrenching fear you were experiencing couldn’t touch you in that safe place. The wall at your back protected you, the closest thing you had to an ally in this horrific battle.</p><p> </p><p>Through force of will, sheer dumb luck or intervention from the gods themselves, you prevailed. The pile of metal and gore piled up until it was just you, and only four of the bastards left before one of the guns clicked in your hand, empty. The other followed a few shots after. You dropped them, letting them clatter on the ground, letting the last thirty seconds catch up to you.</p><p> </p><p>Terror gnawed at your heart, sending waves of ice through your veins.</p><p> </p><p>“It seems you are out of ammo.” He taunted.</p><p> </p><p>“Buddy, I’m the gunslinger. I’ve got bullets for days.” You smirked, reaching behind yourself to unholster the pistol in your shoulder holster.</p><p> </p><p>They launched themselves towards you and you managed you get two shots fired before the one of the last two body-slammed you, pinning you to the wall while cold metal fingers closed around your throat. You heard the crackle of electricity before you saw it, the shock building in the shoulder and traveling down the things arm.</p><p> </p><p>You could tell, a voltage that high would kill you, no question. You twisted your wrist, aiming the gun in your hand even as you struggled to breathe. Red eyes stared into your own as you squeezed your finger on the trigger and the last thing you heard before excruciating pain ripped through you, was the sound of the gunshot.</p><p> </p><p>At least if this was the end, it was fitting that would be the last thing you ever heard….</p><p> </p><p>The next thing you knew, you were gasping for breath, your body flying up into a sitting position. Every breath burned, like you were inhaling fire, your chest felt like it had been kicked by a horse, blood rushed to your head too fast. For a few disorientating moments, you were in too much pain to realise what had happened, or even that you were on a mission.</p><p> </p><p>Through watery eyes you eventually managed to look around, desperately searching for a threat. The robots were crumpled beside you, skulls blown away and the light in their eyes gone. But the one that had attacked you was nowhere to be seen. In the centre of the pile of destroyed monstrosities you collapsed onto your side, shaking. Even though he wasn’t there and had no idea what you were involved in, you heard Clint’s voice in your head, urging you to get up. The job wasn’t finished yet.</p><p> </p><p>With herculean effort you rose to your knees, feeling around the cold stone floor for your weapons, and then you stood. You dragged your exhausted and heavy body through the halls, searching for the final bastard you had to put down. You followed the faint sounds of keyboard keys clacking, creeping into the computer room where your USB was still blinking in the port you’d slid it into. At the main console, the terrifying being was typing something with slow mechanical movements. You cocked your gun and aimed at it’s skull.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re alive.” It whispered in that disturbing haunted tone.</p><p> </p><p>“You said it yourself, I’m a legend.” You hissed.</p><p> </p><p>It spun it’s head around to face you, red eyes flashing in your direction as you smirked down the barrel of the gun.</p><p> </p><p>“And legends never die.” You squeezed the trigger and watched in vindictive satisfaction as the computer consoles were splattered with synthetic brain matter and shards of metal.</p><p> </p><p>You didn’t stop to celebrate, snatching the USB from its port and sliding it into your pocket, but that put you in front of the monitor it had been typing away at, and when you saw what it had been doing, your blood didn’t just chill, it froze inside your veins.</p><p> </p><p>You were several floors up inside the invisible building, and there had been no button to take you to any other floor. Now you knew why, because there on the screen you could see the live feed from the other floors. Rows upon rows of the robots were stored between you and the ground floor, a numerous army of un-activated metal beasts.</p><p> </p><p>And they were waking up.</p><p> </p><p>A hacker you were not, you couldn’t undo whatever the robot had done to trigger the activation sequence. But you could try, in your own practical way. You squeezed the trigger, firing at anything and everything electronic in the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Agent 12, come in! Gun, are you there?” Hill’s desperate voice yelled directly into your ear.</p><p> </p><p>You must have destroyed whatever was interfering with the comms unit.</p><p> </p><p>“Maria get me the hell out of here. I need an evac, NOW.” You snapped.</p><p> </p><p>“We have your location. You’re a 104 feet in the air…”</p><p> </p><p>“Cloaking tech on the building, no time to explain, meet me on the roof.” You ordered.</p><p> </p><p>“Affirmative, I’m following your co-ordinates.” She said briskly and you sighed in relief. </p><p> </p><p>If there was a staircase or elevator that would lead to the roof, you didn’t have time to look for it. You went for the window, prising it open enough to squeeze out of the gap and onto the thin ledge outside. You had to close your eyes and breathe deeply, calming yourself. From the outside, the building was invisible, which meant as far as you could see, you were clinging onto nothing, 100 feet above the ground. You had no idea if you had managed to stop the robots inside from being activated or not. You had managed to disable the comm disrupter with your bullets, but not the cloaking tech, so you exactly how far down shit creek you were.</p><p> </p><p>And then you heard the sweetest sound you had ever heard in your life, the roar of a quinjet engine.</p><p> </p><p>“Hill, open the ramp and drop a rope by me.” You yelled.</p><p> </p><p>“I can’t see you.” She warned.</p><p> </p><p>“Just get it as close to me as you can.”</p><p> </p><p>You watched the jet hover high above you, and waited. A few seconds later a rope fell down, dangling a few meters in front of you. It was too far away to make the leap, you needed her to get it closer to you, and you were about to tell her exactly that when the unseen wall beneath your hands rumbled. The bots were waking up, they were coming for you.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck it. Geronimo!” You screamed, pushing away from the wall with as much force as you could.</p><p> </p><p>You sailed through the open sky, the ground so far below you, the quinjet above you, and for a brief moment you felt strangely calm. Then your fingers brushed the rope and instinctively closed around it.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t pull me up, just fly. Hostiles incoming.” You screamed hoarsely, your voice having to compete with the wind.</p><p> </p><p>“Hold on tight.” Hill warned.</p><p> </p><p>You didn’t even have it in you to make a quip about hanging out, you just started to climb as you were pulled higher into the sky by the jet. A few feet into your ascent, the rope started being pulled back inside the jet and you looked up to see Hill hanging over the edge of the ramp, tugging you to safety.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s on auto-pilot. Don’t worry Gun, I’ve got you.” She vowed.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as you were within reach she held out her arm and you grasped her wrist, combining your efforts and with one final heave you were heaved onto the ramp.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.” You gasped.</p><p> </p><p>As much as you just wanted to collapse into a heap, you weren’t done yet. Staggering to your feet you pulled out the USB and tossed it at her and flipped the switch to close the ramp before you ran into the cockpit.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you doing?” She asked as you switched over from auto-pilot to manual and steered the jet around so it was facing the building.</p><p> </p><p>“Trust me on this one.” You wheezed. </p><p> </p><p>Locking onto your target, the bottom floor of the hellish building, you unleased every ounce of firepower the jet had available and firebombed it. Only when the building was gone, the site now just a raging inferno, only did then did you allow yourself to sigh in relief.</p><p> </p><p>~~~Now~~~</p><p> </p><p>As your graphic account drew to a close you finally looked up from the fork you’d been relentlessly studying while you spoke.</p><p> </p><p>Clint was finding the cutlery just as interesting as you had, studiously looking at it and not you. You could see the tightness in his jaw and the rigid set of his shoulders though, and part of you, a large part of you, wanted to go to him.</p><p> </p><p>Wanda’s hand had been twitching by your arm the whole time you were speaking and you could practically feel the restraint she was putting into not trying to comfort you. If her abilities were half as powerful as people said they were, she had probably been able to feel everything you’d said. The fear, the disgust, the heartache, the anger.</p><p> </p><p>Sam was watching patiently, with understanding, not pity in his eyes. When he saw you looking at him he nodded subtly, one quick jerk of his head. A non-verbal assurance you had support, should you want it.</p><p> </p><p>Steve looked… well almost angry. There was a righteous fury in his gaze, a soul-searing burn. It was only when he almost unconsciously flicked his gaze between you and Bucky did you realise it was a proactive streak that had him so pissed off. He hadn’t wanted you to lay yourself bare, because he wouldn’t have wanted Bucky to do it. Steve had experience with traumatised friends.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky himself was looking at you expressionlessly, his face set into an un-telling expression, but his eyes held the weight of a thousand words. Pain, regret, anger, sympathy, understanding. Your stories were not the same, the chapters were so different, but the endings were similar. Kinship… that was what was in his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Dr Banner just looked uncomfortable, though not unkindly so. He was looking anywhere but you, though his eyes kept flicking to Natasha.</p><p> </p><p>It was Tony Stark that was the biggest surprise to you. The older man looked sad, unquestionably so. There was almost a frantic nervous energy to him, in the way his leg bounced and he kept flexing his hands.</p><p> </p><p>“I swear to god Stark, if you try and hug me….” You warned.</p><p> </p><p>He immediately scoffed at the insinuation, but his eyes remained soft. Your little jibe had broken the tension though, and there were numerous chuckled around the table.</p><p> </p><p>“What about the bullet wound? You were shot in the chest.” Clint croaked out, clearing his throat as he finally looked over at you.</p><p> </p><p>He was clearly replaying painful memories in his mind, and guilt washed over you.</p><p> </p><p>“Healthy dose of adrenaline and fear, I didn’t even know I had been shot until Hill noticed the blood on the flight back.” You explained with forced nonchalance.</p><p> </p><p>You took a deep breath and finally looked at the only person you hadn’t looked at since you finished your story.</p><p> </p><p>“Satisfied?” You asked Natasha snappily.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes searched yours, and for a brief second you though you saw a flicker of guilt on her face.</p><p> </p><p>“I knew you knew more about the virus than you were saying. I wanted to know why you were keeping things from us.” She defended.</p><p> </p><p>It was as close to an apology as you were going to get.</p><p> </p><p>“Doctor Fransman, the earthquake in Egypt… it was in same week you were in Mexico. Something triggered a minor quake along the red sea fault but the village that Fransman was hit hard. The whole town was built on top of a series of catacombs and tunnels, and it collapsed. There was a military base there, and the whole thing got caught in the collapse. It caused a series of explosions. The entire town was obliterated.” She told you.</p><p> </p><p>“I know. Fury suspected AIM had done it themselves, figuring out we had intel. The virus resurfacing proves he was probably right. But that’s not what you thought, was it Natasha?” You scoffed angrily.</p><p> </p><p>“No.” She admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“How many dozens of people died in that quake? You really think that I would slaughter so many civilians to what, assassinate one man?” You scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“Over six-thousand people died.” She sighed.</p><p> </p><p>A derisive huff ripped out of your chest and you shook your head at her.</p><p> </p><p>“You really think I could do that?” You demanded.</p><p> </p><p>“I think you if could, it would have explained why you left us.” She said blankly.</p><p> </p><p>It was the lack of emotion that gave her away. She was hurt, still hurting. She kept it well-hidden and well-guarded, but Natasha Romanoff had a huge heart, and you had broken hers. You had let her think you had died, that she hadn’t been able to save you, and that was painful enough, but then you had come back and she realized it was all a lie.</p><p> </p><p>“The Comms were jammed, but Hill was still getting my vital signs broadcast through the suit. They had me in one of the prototype stealth-suits that monitored your vitals, and when I got shocked by the Scientist Supremes’ robots, my heart stopped. Hill managed to hack the suit and burned out the vital readers to make it electrocute me until my heart re-started. I… died. Alone, surrounded by monsters. I never quite came back from that.” You sighed.</p><p> </p><p>Those suits, that tech… it <em>did </em>exist. You just hadn’t been wearing it.  </p><p> </p><p>“Gun…” Clint said softly, comfortingly.</p><p> </p><p>You ignored him as you stood up, you ignored all of them, all the sympathetic looks, the traumatised understanding in their eyes. They had all been through their own hells, they knew what you were feeling right now, but you didn’t want sympathy or understanding, you wanted solitude.</p><p> </p><p>“It was a pleasure to meet you all but I think I’m done here. Thanks for the offer to sign up but I’ll be turning it down. I’m better off alone.” You said tonelessly, averting your eyes and walking away.</p><p> </p><p>Nobody tried to stop you.</p><p> </p><p>All the pain you had caused Natasha and Clint in the past was nothing compared to what you were doing right now. Faking your death had been a desperate decision, a last-ditch attempt at freedom. What you were doing right now, walking away and letting them believe all the lies you had just spun, it was cold and self-serving.</p><p> </p><p>But they could never know the truth. Nobody could ever know. It was a secret you were going to take to the grave… again.</p><p> </p><p>~~~Then~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Status Update?” Hill asked, looking you over.</p><p> </p><p>“Sore, slightly traumatised, but otherwise fine.” You groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“Any other injuries?” She prodded.</p><p> </p><p>“Other than my emotional ones? No.” You grouched.</p><p> </p><p>“Good, because the missions not over. The information you retrieved was useful, so at least this wasn’t for nothing.” She informed you, swiping through the files you’d snatched on the USB.</p><p> </p><p>“Good to know.” You said sarcastically.</p><p> </p><p>“The weapon AIM is working on is a T-O virus, and they’ve finished it.”</p><p> </p><p>“Techno-organic?” You whispered, horrified.</p><p> </p><p>Robots that bled red blood, that had organic brain matter and human voices….</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t know what it does, but they’re already underway with plans to release it. You need to stop them.” Hill instructed.</p><p> </p><p>When you had walked through the carnage, the squelching beneath your boots was blood and flesh, brain matter and bone. Your heart squeezed painfully and you fully realised that those things weren’t human… but they used to be.</p><p> </p><p>“I know what it does. It transforms a human host into a controllable robot.” You spat out, haunted by the knowledge of what you had just faced.</p><p> </p><p>You’d seen evil before, but this was on another level. Every one of those monstrosities was once a person, a human being, infected with a T-O virus that took over their bodies, and their minds. Everything they were, everything they had once been, it was all stripped away to make room for The Scientist Supreme.</p><p> </p><p>“Where is it now?” You demanded.</p><p> </p><p>Hill was looking at you with deep concern but blinked it away and looked down at the screen.</p><p> </p><p>“Egypt. It’s in the hands of a Doctor Eli Fransman, one of the scientists who created it. You need to…”</p><p> </p><p>“Go to Egypt, obliterate all traces of this virus and take down the Doctor, by any means necessary.” You interrupted.</p><p> </p><p>You would not let the hell you’d just faced be unleased upon the world, no matter what. You would do whatever was necessary to make sure that virus never infected another person.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Resurrection</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>~~~Somewhere in a Top Secret Location~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Sir, we’re under attack!”</p><p> </p><p>Fury didn’t move from his seat, calmly tapping at the computer to bring up the security feed. Apparently someone had crashed an SUV right through his front doors. He shook his head as his supposedly highly trained agents descended on the vehicle, barking threatening orders at it.</p><p> </p><p>“Tell them to stand down. The vehicle is empty.” He said coldly.</p><p> </p><p>Anyone who knew him at all would be able to see how angry he was. Anyone who knew him <em>well</em> would be able to tell he was amused.</p><p> </p><p>“Sir?”</p><p> </p><p>“She’s already half way up here by now.” Fury pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>Right on cue, there was a knock on his office door.</p><p> </p><p>“Open up or I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll shoot the shit out of your door!” You yelled through it.</p><p> </p><p>“Sir, I…”</p><p> </p><p>“You heard her! Open the goddamn door!” Fury snapped, out of patience.</p><p> </p><p>The agent hurried to obey, still looking like a lost lamb. When he swung the door open, you were looking about as impressed as Fury was feeling.</p><p> </p><p>“You have downgraded Fury. Honestly, these people are useless.” You sneered, storming past the spluttering agent.</p><p> </p><p>“Ma’am, I have to…”</p><p> </p><p>“Get out!” You and Fury said simultaneously.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as the door closed Fury turned his cold gaze on you.</p><p> </p><p>“I was starting to worry you were in the wind again.” He said.</p><p> </p><p>“Aww, you were worried about me? That’s nice.” You scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“I assume you went underground to see what you could find out about the virus?” He guessed.</p><p> </p><p>“As sharp as ever I see. Found the original formula, though Fransmans notes are mostly gibberish. Gave them to Banner but he’d have an easier time deciphering them if he had the sample.”  </p><p> </p><p>“And you came to ask me for it? You’ve changed.” He told you.</p><p> </p><p>He stood up and walked over to the wall, pressing his hand against the paint. The outline of his palm glowed green and a seemingly normal section of the wall opened to reveal a keypad.</p><p> </p><p>“I was going to steal it back, but I wanted to talk to you. And I figured you would give it to me, since it’s the very least you owe me.” You shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>He typed a code into the keypad and another larger section of the wall slid open. He reached inside the hidden space and retrieved clack briefcase.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you want to talk about, Agent?” He asked, putting the case on his desk.</p><p> </p><p>“That. I’m not an Agent anymore. My contract stipulated I would work for Shield in exchange for my freedom. Well Shield is gone and you don’t own me anymore.” You informed him coldly, daring him to challenge you on it.</p><p> </p><p>“When you came aboard, Shield took care of everything. I couldn’t undo it now, even if I wanted to. You fulfilled your end of the bargain as far as I’m concerned. Was that all you wanted to talk about?” He agreed, surprisingly.</p><p> </p><p>He slid the case across the desk to you and you approached, looking down at it. You unclipped the locks and flipped the case open. There it was, the cause of so much pain for you, sitting there in the case. One small vial of murky red liquid. It looked almost harmless.</p><p> </p><p>“I have one question.” You whispered.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m listening.”</p><p> </p><p>In one smooth motion you pulled the vial out of the case and tossed it across the room. It spun through the air, the lights shining through the red liquid and casting a myriad of patterns on the walls as the vial made its rapid descent towards the ground. And Fury, he didn’t so much as flinch. Not even when it landed at his feet, the glass shattering into dozens of glittering shards and the supposedly lethal red fluid splattered his boots.</p><p> </p><p>“How did you convince AIM they had a sample of the virus?” You snarled.</p><p> </p><p>Because that’s what he had done. He had convinced AIM they had a powerful weapon, which convinced The Avengers that AIM had a deadly weapon, which convinced you. Fury had used a placebo to topple everyone like dominoes until you rose from your grave. Fransmans notes were indecipherable, and Fransman himself was dead. Natasha was the one who had made you realise you were being played, when she had said that the virus resurfacing only made sense if AIM had been the ones to destroy the Egypt lab.</p><p> </p><p>“I had help. From an old friend.” He said, unapologetic for what he’d done, and unsurprised you’d figured it out.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have friends. You have chess pieces.” You said scornfully.</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t say it was my friend.” He pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>There was only one person you could think of who you would have counted as a friend who could have convinced AIM the virus was real, but it wasn’t your main concern at the moment. That was an issue for another day.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a son of a bitch. You convinced me that everything I had done, every part of my soul that I sacrificed, it was for nothing. You let me think my worst nightmares were coming true and for what? So you could add one more soldier to your ever growing roster?” You spat hatefully.</p><p> </p><p>“You’ll thank me one day, and if you don’t, the rest of the world just might.” He rebutted calmly, uncaring in the face of your heartbroken anger.</p><p> </p><p>“You had no right! None! I may have belonged to shield but when it fell, I was released from my contract. I was FREE, and more importantly, the world was free from me.” You raged.</p><p> </p><p>Faking your death hadn’t helped you piece back the broken pieces of yourself together, but it had kept you from shattering any more. In New Orleans you had found a kind of peace, a simple life for the most part.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you want to know why you were passed over for The Avengers initiative?” He asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Because the guy in charge was a great big bag of dicks?” You snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“Because for such a skilled shooter you could never grasp the concept that if you pull the trigger, someone gets shot. Actions have consequences and just didn’t care. Until you did. You learned to care so much that you exiled yourself.” He informed you, brushing over your comment with nothing more than a glare.</p><p> </p><p>“Only in your messed up mind would me having a breakdown mean that I am ready to be a superhero!” You snapped at him.</p><p> </p><p>“It was my actions that made you run away so you’re damn right I did what I had to do to bring you back. We were supposed to be the shield between the world and a much more dangerous world. Well the world has changed and the danger is everywhere. The world needs heroes, it needs weapons. When the shit hits the fan and all hell breaks loose, the world needs a girl and her gun to stand between them and the danger. And what you need is a team. I let you go away and lick your wounds but it is time for you to come back, to be a part of the world and to protect it.”</p><p> </p><p>His little impassioned speech left you speechless. It was the closest you had ever seen Fury come to showing he cared. And in a very messed up way, you could see the logic behind what he had done. Nothing else would have brought you back, and you had needed to come back. You needed to see what your selfish actions had done to the people you loved, you needed to see that you were still capable of doing good things, you needed to see that you were still alive.</p><p> </p><p>You had long since come to terms that you were fucked up. Now, it was time to admit that you weren’t so fucked up you couldn’t be fixed.  </p><p> </p><p>“Do we understand one another, Gun?” He asked.</p><p> </p><p>You only hesitated for a second before you jerked your head, nodding to show that yes, you understood one another.</p><p> </p><p>“Good, now get the hell out of my office.” He ordered.</p><p> </p><p>You glanced down at the shattered remains of the vial, the lie that had set all this in motion.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes sir.” You said respectfully.</p><p> </p><p>Maybe it was your imagination, or maybe you were crazy, but as you straightened your shoulders and turned on your heel, you could almost swear you saw a twinkle of pride in his eye.</p><p> </p><p>~~~The Avengers Compound~~~</p><p> </p><p>It was probably too much too fast, and it would probably blow up in your face, but your reputation wasn’t built on you thinking things through. Jumping in at the deep end of the pool, recklessly and immediately, that was who you were. You could run away, you could hide, you could bury your head in the sand or re-invent yourself, at the end of the day you were always going to be The Gunslinger.</p><p> </p><p>It only took a couple of phonecalls and half a day later, you had everything sorted. Your secret funds were moved from off-shore accounts into your banking accounts, your freshly minted passport and credit cards had your real name stamped on them, and you were legally resurrected. There was no going back.</p><p> </p><p>All that was left to do was accept your place in this brave new world.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey Cap, can I borrow those muscles again?” You called out loudly, cupping your hands around your mouth.</p><p> </p><p>Steve looked up from his conversation with the secretary in the lobby of the Avengers Compound and saw you through the glass windows, leaning on the hood of a car, waving at him. You saw the surprise flicker across his face and then he was striding through the doors, coming to a halt beside you.</p><p> </p><p>“You came back.” He stated.</p><p> </p><p>“What, you really thought you’d seen the last of me?” You asked him.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought it was a possibility.” He admitted ruefully.</p><p> </p><p>“Did it break your heart?” You teased.</p><p> </p><p>He chuckled, shaking his head over so slightly at your antics.</p><p> </p><p>“I was inconsolable, not as much as Tony though.” He bantered back at you.</p><p> </p><p>“Should I be concerned about Starks strange fondness for me? He’s not going to be filing adoption paperwork or anything is he?” You checked, half seriously.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s Stark, that is a possibility.” He warned sagely.</p><p> </p><p>“Now of all the Avengers I thought I’d end up calling Daddy, Stark wasn’t on the list.” You snorted, pushing yourself away from the car and opening the boot.</p><p> </p><p>Steve followed you, looking inside at what you needed help carrying. When he saw the amount of bags you had in there the corner of his mouth tugged into a slight grin.</p><p> </p><p>“You moving in?” He joked.</p><p> </p><p>“Yip.”</p><p> </p><p>He only looked surprised for a split second before the slight grin turned into a full blown smile.</p><p> </p><p>“I was worried we might have blown our chance.” He admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“Because of Natasha’s suspicious nature? Nah, I deserved it, and I’m going to fix it.” You sighed softly.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha and Clint both deserved more than the excuses and weak apology you had given them. You didn’t blame her for losing trust in you, and you didn’t expect her to just give you her faith again. You would have to ern it, and you intended to do just that. You were going to do it right this time. You weren’t going to be the twisted thing you had arrived at Shield as or the broken thing you had left it as.</p><p> </p><p>“They both care about you, deeply. It’s part of the reason I want you to join up so much. I trust them, and their opinion of you. You haven’t exactly made a bad impression either.” He with such a sweet manner that you didn’t think anyone except he could pull off without seeming false.</p><p> </p><p>“I do have rules.” You warned him.</p><p> </p><p>“Lay them on me.” He said straight away, like he’d been prepared for it.</p><p> </p><p>“I need one long week off every three months, no contact for any reason. You can’t ask what I do during this time.” You told him, starting your negotiations off with something simple.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s more than reasonable.” He agreed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m still going to freelance on occasion, I still have acquaintances and friends out there, <em>but </em>I will clear it with you first.” You bartered.</p><p> </p><p>It was more consideration than you had ever shown Fury, but this was different. The Avengers were different. Steve Rogers was different. And you, you were trying to be different. The Gunslinger but improved.</p><p> </p><p>“I can agree to that, I’m not going to take up your free time or infringe on your personal life.” He promised.</p><p> </p><p>“You can take up a little of my free time, infringe your way into being a part of my personal life if you want.” You smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“I may just take you up on that.” He suggested, smiling back.</p><p> </p><p>“Is that everything?” He checked.</p><p> </p><p>“Actually there’s one more thing, and it’s a deal-breaker.” You informed him.</p><p> </p><p>He waited curiously, nodding his head for you to continue.</p><p> </p><p>“I need a Bazooka, and it has to be pink.”</p><p> </p><p>~~~Elsewhere~~~</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me again.” The man whispered.</p><p> </p><p>Josh McLane whimpered, tears running down his face, mingling with the rivulets of blood that trailed down his skin.</p><p> </p><p>“Please, I’ve told you everything. I’ve described her down to the smallest detail, everything she said and did. What more can I tell you?” He pleaded.</p><p> </p><p>“Start from the beginning, and don’t leave out a single stray detail. I want to hear it again, and again, and again. You will satisfy me by telling me about her, until I have her in my grasp.”</p><p> </p><p>“She was just some Hydra bitch, I don’t understand what you want me to say.” He croaked.</p><p> </p><p>His torturer crossed the room in a few strides and he curled in on himself, realising he had made a grievous mistake. Another one to add to the list.</p><p> </p><p>“She is not Hydra and she is not just some bitch.” The man snarled.</p><p> </p><p>The man ran his fingers over the cuts he’d inflicted on Josh’s face almost tenderly for a second before he closed his grasp, squeezing the bones of his face until he was sure they were going to break.  </p><p> </p><p>“For years I lamented her death at the hands of those Hydra scum, I thought they had robbed me of my chance to face her again!  And now, after all this time you bring me a story of what can only be her, so you will tell it to me as many times as I ask, and should you ever insult her again… The pain you have endured before now will become a distant and pleasant memory.” The man spat, releasing Josh and letting him crumple onto the ground.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright… ok. I understand, I’ll tell you about her.” Josh sobbed.</p><p> </p><p>He had worked to rise amongst the ranks of AIM for years, hoping to end up here, in the same room as the infamous boss. Well now he had what he wanted.</p><p> </p><p>The undivided attention of the Scientist Supreme.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>~~~End Of Volume I~~~</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. The Seeds Of Hope</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hope. A bright shining thing that makes its home in your chest, beside your heart, dosing your blood with warm sunshine so that you can weather even the harshest of storms. Our lungs are designed to draw in oxygen but it is hope that makes each breath seem purposeful, makes each inhale and exhale more than just survival. Breaths become the thing upon which you measure your journey until hope is fulfilled. It is hope that turns the world you have always lived in into a masterpiece. With hope, the dreary skies that bode bad weather are so much more than just the threat of rain, they are wonderous and beautiful.</p><p> </p><p>It is the lack of hope that leaves an empty space in your heart, a space that over time becomes a well, filling with pain and bitterness, a well that begins to overflow, poisoning your heart and turning it to cold stone. A life without love is a sad one. A life without joy, is a bleak one. A life without hope, is no life at all. You can live, but without hope, you aren’t alive.</p><p> </p><p>Re-entering into a life of heroism and danger had most certainly shaved a considerable chunk off of your life-span. It was ironic then, that the hope you had been so long without had flared back to life within you.</p><p> </p><p>You didn’t quite skip down the hallway as you followed the sound of Clint’s voice, but there was a definite spring in your step as you walked into the living room he was using to make a phone-call.</p><p> </p><p>“I know she’s in New York, shouldn’t be too hard for you to track down. I just want to know where she is that’s all, so I can…. What? No, she’s not a Zombie.” He was saying.</p><p> </p><p>“Pssst! Hey do you want to order pizza with me? I’m haven’t had New York Pizza in so long.” You whispered loudly, holding up a takeout menu when he turned around and gaped at you over the back of the sofa he was perched on.</p><p> </p><p>He stood up stiffly, never taking his eyes off of you. You blinked owlishly at him as he inhaled deeply, puffing up his chest.</p><p> </p><p>“Never mind.” He snapped, hanging up the phone.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait. Were you talking about me?” You asked, only just registering what he’d been saying on the phone.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t answer, he calmly slid his phone into his pocket with a blank expression and then too quickly for you to react, he picked up a coaster off of the table and flung it at you. It bounced off your skull and clattered onto the floor where you just stared dumbly at it.</p><p> </p><p>“Does this mean you don’t want stuffed crust – STOP THROWING THINGS AT ME!” You screeched when another coaster hit you on the forehead.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop running away and then randomly turning up again like it’s normal.” He rebutted.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, that’s fair, but honestly Clint, violence is never the answer.” You said with a straight face.</p><p> </p><p>He stared you down impassively, with the kind of stillness that a lion has before it pounces on its prey. You clicked your tongue at the strained silence.</p><p> </p><p>“So, pepperoni?” You asked.</p><p> </p><p>You only just managed to duck in time to stop your head being knocked off by a remote control.</p><p> </p><p>“Ok, I surrender!” You yelped, waving the menu like a flag.</p><p> </p><p>“What is wrong with you?” He asked incredulously.</p><p> </p><p>“Alphabetically or Chronologically?” You joked.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun…”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t meant to just disappear after dinner. I was too caught up to remember to give you a way to contact me, but I wasn’t leaving for good. I’m not leaving again Clint. I’m not going to apologise again because at this point it’s redundant, but I will show you I can be trusted again.” You promised, carefully making your way towards him.</p><p> </p><p>He crossed his arms you gave you the full force of the murder stare.</p><p> </p><p>“Look, I know that you and Nat are still suspicious, her more than you, and we all know I’m still hiding things about Mexico. I can’t tell you the whole story, but I swear that my secrets aren’t diabolical in nature, they’re just painful. I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to talk about it, but I know I’m done letting it dictate my life for me. I’m back, I am. If for any reason I ever have to leave or hide again, I will tell you first.”</p><p> </p><p>“Gun, you idiot.” He scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>You frowned and looked around as if there was something in the room that would give you clue as to what he was talking about.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not wrong, but why am I an idiot?” You asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Of course I want stuffed crust. You’re paying.” He said simply, walking past you and out of the room like he hadn’t just tried to give you a concussion.</p><p> </p><p>“Miss Slinger, Captain Rogers has called a team meeting in conference room A.”</p><p> </p><p>You looked up at the ceiling.</p><p> </p><p>“Never gonna get used to you doing that, Friday. Where’s conference room A?” </p><p> </p><p>“It’s next to conference room B.” She informed you.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, so that’s how it is?” You huffed, wandering the same direction Clint had gone.</p><p> </p><p>You turned left at the end of the corridor, hoping of the best.</p><p> </p><p>“Other way.”</p><p> </p><p>“I knew you liked me Fri-Fri.” You joked, following the route she carefully directed until you found Conference Room A.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s happen’ Capp’n?” You asked as you strode into the room, almost tripping over your feet when you nearly walked straight into…</p><p> </p><p>“I am Vision, though I believe it is customary in the spirit of friendliness to say that you may call me Vis.” He introduced, holding out his hand for you to shake.</p><p> </p><p>He was an android, not a robot or a cyborg. It was an important distinction that you had to repeat to yourself. Vision had never been human and nobody had died to make him, he was his own entity, not controlled by an evil scientist. You swallowed your fear down and grasped the hand he was offering to you, trying to ignore the prickling uncomfortable sensation that ran over your skin when you touched him. You felt ill. Vision was a hero, a friend to people you cared about, a friendly being, and yet you felt uncomfortable around him for reasons that were beyond his control. It wasn’t fair of you. It was prejudice, no matter what kind of trauma it stemmed from, and it was unacceptable.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m Gun. It’s nice to meet you Vision.” You forced yourself to say.</p><p> </p><p>You wouldn’t let him see the inner turmoil you were facing. Until you managed to knock some sense into yourself the very least you could do was make sure your messed upness didn’t bleed over him.</p><p> </p><p>“So! Does anyone want Pizza? Apparently I’m paying,” You asked awkwardly, noticing that every other Avenger you’d already met was milling around the room, staring at you.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re staying for dinner again?” Tony snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun’s agreed to join the team.” Steve announced.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh yeah… that.” You agreed, pointing needlessly at Steve.</p><p> </p><p>“Really?” Sam checked, grinning brightly at you.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh wonderful! We need more women on the team.” Wanda gushed, rushing over to you like she was going to hug you.</p><p> </p><p>She seemed to think better of it at the last second and settled for squeezing your elbow. You bit your tongue to stop yourself cooing at her and slung your arm around her shoulders, tucking her in at your side, returning the smile Bucky was giving you from across the room.</p><p> </p><p>“Still think it’s weird that I came for dinner and that was enough for you to invite me to join.” You pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“I joined in the middle of a battle, after I had been fighting for the enemy.” Wanda shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“You proved your loyalties.” Clint assured her.</p><p> </p><p>“Welcome to the team моя́ смертельное оружие.” Natasha congratulated, either enthusiastically or begrudgingly, it was difficult to tell.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re sending Nat and Sam out to gather Intel from AIM, with Banner accompaning them so they have scientific back-up.” Steve informed you, frowning at Natasha, maybe he couldn’t figure out if she was happy you were here either.</p><p> </p><p>“Ahh, yeah, um… About that….” You winced.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no. What now?” Clint griped.</p><p> </p><p>“Fury.” You told him, that one word explaining everything.</p><p> </p><p>You watched him process it, mild confusion then understanding flitting across his face before he landed on annoyance. Natasha rolled her eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“What have we missed?” Sam queried, looking between you Nat and Clint.</p><p> </p><p>“The virus wasn’t real, was it? Not the one we took from AIM anyway. That’s why Fury took it before Banner could run any tests.” Clint sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Why would Fury send us after a fake virus?” Steve asked.</p><p> </p><p>Clint waved his hand in your general direction and you threw an apologetic look at them.</p><p> </p><p>“I know you’re the modern answer to Annie Oakley, but what makes you so important that Fury would risk sending us on wild goose chase?” Tony asked suspiciously.</p><p> </p><p>“He’d deny it, but I think he felt responsible for me. The truth is I was still technically a kid when Fury found me, and Shield became my legal guardians. He thinks he pushed me too hard and that’s why I broke, so in his mind this makes up for it. Bringing me back into the fold, pushing me towards The Avengers.” You explained.</p><p> </p><p>It was the truth, at least as far as you had been able to decipher.</p><p> </p><p>“Fury is problematic at times, I think we can all agree on that, but he also knew we could be a team before we did. His methods are questionable, but his intentions are good.” Natasha shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>The contemplative silence that followed her statement was bordering on awkward when it was boisterously broken by Tony so abruptly that you nearly unholstered a gun.</p><p> </p><p>“Party! A welcoming party for our newest recruit!” Tony announced suddenly, slapping his hands together.  </p><p> </p><p>“Tony we can’t announce her yet, there’s a lot to be sorted out.” Steve sighed.</p><p> </p><p>Something about the utter resignation and exhaustion in his eyes made you think that Tony did this a lot.</p><p> </p><p>“A small gathering then.” Tony bartered.</p><p> </p><p>“Stark…”</p><p> </p><p>“How long were you dead? A few years? That’s a lot of birthdays and holidays to make up for.” Tony asked you, eyeing so excitedly that it was vaguely threatening.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m down for a party, if only because I’m slightly afraid for my safety right now.” You begrudgingly agreed.</p><p> </p><p>“Excellent!” Tony exclaimed, releasing you.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll make preparations and send out invites. I’ll have someone go on the roof and yell out for Thor.” He listed off, more to himself than anyone else as he wandered out of the door.</p><p> </p><p>“We can probably distract him for a couple of days if we task him with outfitting and gearing you up. If he’s still in a party mood after that then we’ll just break Barnes’s arm again.” Sam offered.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s going to figure out we’re doing it on purpose eventually.” Bucky muttered.</p><p> </p><p>“We need to keep my being here on the DL for now, not just because of AIM thinking I was Hydra, but I don’t even know where I stand in regards to the Accords.” You admitted.</p><p> </p><p>“When Rhodey took over the Sokovia Accords he changed them so they were better for everyone signing. Anyone with a Secret Identity, like Spiderman, won’t have their real identity recorded anywhere.” Sam informed you, easing any qualms you might have had.</p><p> </p><p>You’d heard about Colonel Rhodes being elected as head of The Sokovia Accords after some kind of freak accident that killed Secretary Ross (Apparently it was super gross and very, very painful). Rhodes seemed level-headed and had a unique perspective in that he could see it from all sides. If he agreed to keep you off the record, you’d consider signing the damn things.</p><p> </p><p>“Fair enough, so… Pizza?” You asked hopefully, prodding Wanda repeatedly in the shoulder until she nodded her agreement.</p><p> </p><p>“Pizza will have to wait. You’re part of the team now, so there’s certain things you have to get out of the way.” Steve informed you with a small hint of malice.</p><p> </p><p>“We should start with your medical assessment. We can get that done now, if you agree?” Banner suggested, eyeing you up in a very non-sexy, very scientific way.</p><p> </p><p>You made a shrill noise in the back of your throat, not unlike a distressed fox. Wanda stroked your arm sympathetically.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll sit with you if you like?” She offered.</p><p> </p><p>“I can stay with her.” Sam interjected quickly.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s probably best if I do it, save Bruce from having to tell me later.” Steve rebutted.</p><p> </p><p>“I too offer my company, should it be desired.” Vision put in, though it seemed more like he was doing it because he assumed it was the polite thing to do.</p><p> </p><p>Natasha snorted loudly at the playground squabbling that was quickly breaking out.</p><p> </p><p>“Looks like everybody wants to play with the shiny new toy. Well, she was my toy first.” Clint guffawed.</p><p> </p><p>“As touching as this show of support is, I would rather no witnesses to my dissection. Not until we know each other a little better.” You insisted, detaching yourself from your future mentoree/adoptee.</p><p> </p><p>Wanda immediately wandered back over to Vision as you waved for Banner to show you the way. Even as you left the room, the others were still trying to decide who got to accompany you, unaware you’d spoken at all – never mind left the room. Natasha obviously knew but she didn’t draw attention to you, too amused by everybody’s antics. Even Tony was making his case now. In fact, only Bucky seemed to notice you leaving, twitching his lips and nodding at you with a slight jerk of his head.</p><p> </p><p>You’d never felt so wanted, it was enough to make a girl swoon. It also made you feel welcomed, and happy you’d chosen to come here. A feeling that lasted only another hour. After the sheer amount of icky samples that Doctor Banner had taken from you, you felt like you were owed dinner at the very least. Instead, he’d stuck a bunch of sticky pads all over you and was making you run on a treadmill.</p><p> </p><p>“Making someone run on a treadmill isn’t medical evaluation, it’s just torture.” You huffed.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you know you have the X Chromosome?” Bruce asked, studying a microscope with a blood sample under it.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, it’s latent.” You brushed off.</p><p> </p><p>“Indeed. Your sodium’s a little low but not worryingly so. I’ll have to run some more in-depth tests to be sure, but it seems that you’re in pretty good health.” He mused, sliding his chair across the lab to check the monitors you were hooked up to.</p><p> </p><p>“You say that like you’re surprised.” You snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“Well most Agents are in good shape, but you’ve been out of the field for some time.” He defended.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I stop running yet?” You pleaded.</p><p> </p><p>You weren’t struggling so much as growing bored. Treadmills never made much sense to you. If you were going to run it should be to get somewhere, or away from something.</p><p> </p><p>“You can. I’ll get your report to Steve and let him know you’re cleared to start your physical evaluation.” Bruce agreed, turning the treadmill off.</p><p> </p><p>You slowed down until it stopped and hopped off of it, letting him help you remove the annoying sticky bits.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t you just use my old evaluations from Shield?” You wondered.</p><p> </p><p>“They’re out of date. You can’t get out of this I’m afraid.” Bruce said sympathetically.</p><p> </p><p>“So, medical and physical evaluations. Is there going to be a psychological one? Cause spoiler alert, I’m not gonna pass that.” You warned.</p><p> </p><p>“Neither would most of us. No psychological evaluation, but Steve and Sam will keep an eye on you. They take it as it goes.” He told you.</p><p> </p><p>“Sharpshooter, stand still for a second so Friday can get your measurements.” Tony ordered, from somewhere else in the room.</p><p> </p><p>You held out your arms as if to say ‘have at it’.</p><p> </p><p>“Got them. How do you feel about red and gold as a colour scheme?” Tony asked.</p><p> </p><p>“You aren’t dressing me up like you.” You grimaced.</p><p> </p><p>“Nobody wants to colour coordinate with me. We’ll just go with black then.” He bitched.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re all done.” Bruce informed you kindly.</p><p> </p><p>“Yay. Come to me, child.” Tony instructed you.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks Doc.” You told Banner, walking away in the direction he was pointing.</p><p> </p><p>You wandered through the lab, which grew more and more cluttered the deeper you ventured.</p><p><br/>“There you are. Here, this is for you.” Tony exclaimed, looking up from the desk he was hunched over and tossing a Stark Pad at you like a frisbee.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks?”</p><p> </p><p>“I meant whats on the Pad, but you can keep that one, it’s the new model. I’ll have the cellphone sent to your room later.” He said dismissively, going back to whatever he was doing.</p><p> </p><p>You frowned at the report on the screen.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s this?” You asked him.</p><p> </p><p>“Bit of background history. It’s how Vision was created. Though you might feel a bit better if you understood him.” He shrugged without looking up.  </p><p> </p><p>“Oh. It was that obvious huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“Not really, but I am a genius. And I know a thing or two about trauma. I don’t think Vis picked up on it if that’s what you were worried about.” Tony assured.</p><p> </p><p>You regarded him thoughtfully, updating your opinion on him. Not that it had been poor before, but now it was a bit more complete. Stark wasn’t just perceptive, he cared about the things he perceived. That set him apart from most intelligent people.</p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.” You said gratefully.</p><p> </p><p>“Sure, now shush, Daddy’s designing you weapons.”</p><p> </p><p>You found an empty space on a workbench and folded yourself onto it, scrolling through Visions file. It mentioned something called A Cradle and someone called Dr Helen Cho. 90% of it was gibberish to you, but what you did understand made you feel better. This cold hard document of facts had been exactly what you needed to calm your shattered mind and reject the distress you’d developed.</p><p> </p><p>The silence between you and Tony stretched one, both of you doing your own thing without bothering the other. It was the closest thing to domestic you’d felt in a long time and the seeds of hope that had taken root in your heart bloomed a little more.</p><p> </p><p>You stayed long after you’d finished reading, basking in the metaphorical warmth and letting the vines of blooming hope tangle around your heart until you could feel it with every beat.</p><p> </p><p>You didn’t have to be alone anymore, didn’t have to cut yourself off. You could heal, and grow and <em>hopefully</em> make amends for all your mistakes.</p><p> </p><p>You could be better.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Planting Roots</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>***NEW CONTENT***</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Meatfeast!”</p><p> </p><p>“Your nickname in college?” You guessed, accepting the slice of pizza from Tony and taking a bite out of it.</p><p> </p><p>“Why are so many pizza terms vaguely sexual?” Clint asked through a mouthful of pepperoni.</p><p> </p><p>“Cause nothing in the world is sexier than pizza.” You decided, shooting Tony a thumbs up.</p><p> </p><p>Rather than pick a pizza place to order from, everyone on the team had ordered from their favourite place, which was why you were sat on the floor surrounded by pizza boxes and concerned Avengers.</p><p> </p><p>“Meatfeast has knocked the deep pan out of first place.” You announced, causing Sam to groan in defeat.</p><p> </p><p>They were taking it very seriously, getting a little competitive over who had the best taste in pizza. Thankfully you weren’t picking up the bill, despite your earlier offer. Perks of being newfound friends with Tony Stark.</p><p> </p><p>“Mine next.” Wanda chirped, floating a pizza box over to you in a haze of red mist.</p><p> </p><p>“Plain cheese, crispy looking crust, simple but effective.” You noted.</p><p> </p><p>So maybe they weren’t the only ones taking it seriously. It was a strange but not entirely unwelcome feeling to be surrounded by people, to be involved with something so light-hearted and fun. You’d made a promise to yourself to do better, and you were determined to stick to it, so that meant you couldn’t hold people at arms length.</p><p> </p><p>You gratefully allowed The Avengers to welcome you, listening to the stories they told as the pizza ran out and the night grew darker. The content feeling in the centre of your chest seemed to grow larger every time Sam clinked your glass with his, or Tony reached over to refill the glass every time he refilled his own. The genuine smile on your face lasted all through the evening, growing wider every time Steve threw back his head to chuckle at something you said, or Bucky’s eyes sought you out and his own smile was thrown in your direction. The happiest moment was when Nat sat down next to you, nonchalantly offering you a red-vine while she carried on a conversation with Bruce. It was all so casual, so natural, so homely. They all felt like a family, and somehow you didn’t feel like an outsider looking in. You didn’t quite belong, not yet, but the implication that you could was clearly there.</p><p> </p><p>And you had family here as well. You blinked once, and your eyes refused to open again until someone slipped an arm around your waist. You blearily squinted at the top of Clint’s head as he pulled you from the couch to a symphony of goodnights from the group, gentle laughter at your tired state following you out of the room as you sleepily waved in their general direction.</p><p> </p><p>“Get some sleep, Friday will wake you up in the morning. Some of us work out first thing, and you have to play catch up so you should join.” Clint sniggered, enjoying the mental image of you being put through your paces.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine.” You huffed.</p><p> </p><p>It was to be expected. You had been an Agent once, and you might have retained the knowledge but the muscle mass and stamina had diminished in your ‘retirement’. You had agreed to join the team, but that didn’t mean you were physically or emotionally ready to be a fully fledged member. There was the fun stuff to go through first. Like training.</p><p> </p><p>“Here ya are. Sleep tight, don’t let the bed bugs bite.” Clint announced, opening your door and gently pushing you through it.</p><p> </p><p>“Clint?” You called before the door closed.</p><p> </p><p>He waited patiently for you to say whatever it was you wanted to say.</p><p> </p><p>“I really am sorry.” You whispered.</p><p> </p><p>“I know. And I understand why you did it, even if I wish you hadn’t I mostly forgive you. Mostly. The rest will take time.” He sighed.</p><p> </p><p>You doubted that the damage you had done could ever be fully forgiven, and you knew that was your own fault. You were lucky to have a second chance though, even if it had come from Fury’s interference.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll see you in the morning.” You smiled softly.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll be here.”</p><p> </p><p>“So will I.” You vowed.</p><p> </p><p>He nodded, his eyes soft as he reached out to pull your door closed. You leant against it, turning to look at what was now your bedroom. The room that Tony had allocated for you was a lot fancier than anything you had stayed in, well, ever. It was all neutral colours, very standard looking at first glance, but further inspection showed the furniture was high quality and the sheets were softer than a baby’s ass. Stark didn’t skimp on quality.</p><p> </p><p>You rummaged through your bags, more concerned with finding your weapons than pyjamas but eventually recovering both. No matter how tired you were, you wouldn’t be able to sleep unarmed. Checking the guns were loaded and the safety was on, you placed one behind the headboard, one under the mattress with a blade to keep it company and a revolver in your discarded shoe. Only then did you pull your comfy sweatpants and oversized shirt on, fling your bra into the corner of the room with a satisfied groan and eye the bed with an excited grin. Backing up a few steps to get a running start, you launched yourself onto the plush queen-sized mattress, bouncing on impact. By the time you landed properly, face smooshing into a plump pillow, you were out like a light.</p><p> </p><p>Approximately three seconds later you were awoken by a gentle beeping that was steadily getting louder.</p><p> </p><p>“Whazzat?” You groaned.</p><p> </p><p>“Pardon Miss Slinger, I didn’t want you to wake up to a disembodied voice, given your history.”</p><p> </p><p>“Friday?” You puzzled.</p><p> </p><p>“Correct.”</p><p> </p><p>You opened your eyes, noting the daylight glowing behind the curtains. So it had been longer than a few seconds then.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s morning?” You asked dumbly.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s 7am. Captain Rogers has been asking of you are joining them this morning. Several of the team are already outside, preparing for a morning run.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ew.” You muttered, sitting up and yawning loudly.</p><p> </p><p>“Shall I pass that along?” She offered, amusement somehow colouring her tone.</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, I’ll go tell them myself.” You sighed.</p><p> </p><p>So ten minutes later, that’s what you did.</p><p> </p><p>“This is disgusting.” You announced as you strode along the path towards Steve.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky, Clint and Natasha were strew around the grass, stretching.</p><p> </p><p>“Not a morning person?” Steve asked.</p><p> </p><p>“She’s not a person.” Clint supplied helpfully.</p><p> </p><p>“I’d be offended but he’s got a point.” You acquiesced, beginning your own stretches.</p><p> </p><p>“Clint and Nat are going to spar on the grass for a while, the rest of us are going on a run. Could be a good way for you to get to know the grounds…” Steve offered.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not stupid enough to spar with the two people who still have reason to be mad at me.” You muttered softly enough for only Steve to hear.</p><p> </p><p>He smiled sympathetically and nodded to show he understood.  </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t think you’ll be able to keep up with Bucky and I.” He pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe not both at the same time, but give me a one on one and I think I can handle you.” You smirked.</p><p> </p><p>It was cute, the way he cocked his head to side like a confused puppy and tried to work out the insinuation. You fluttered your eyelashes and smiled innocently at him, biting the inside of your lip to stop from laughing.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun.” He sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes Captain?”</p><p> </p><p>“Behave.” He warned weakly, or more like pleaded.</p><p> </p><p>You held your hands up but didn’t actually make any promises as someone jogged up the path towards you.</p><p> </p><p>“Morning beautiful!” Sam called, jogging over to you both.</p><p> </p><p>“You talking to me or Steve?” You asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Well, he is pretty.” Sam snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“Isn’t he though?” You agreed.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s those eyes, that hair, and that jaw…” Sam pondered thoughtfully, studying a blushing Steve.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s the smile. Makes you all weak at the knees.” You added.</p><p> </p><p>Steve sighed heavily, exasperation written all over his features as he shook his head at the two of you and your antics.</p><p> </p><p>“You can run with Sam.” He decided, hailing Bucky over. </p><p> </p><p>“Are you slow? Please tell me you’re slow, I need a win.” Your designated running buddy begged.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry.” You winced.</p><p> </p><p>Sam held his hand to his heart, betrayed.</p><p> </p><p>“I spend most of my time running away from explosions, I’ve got to be kind of fast or I’d get blown up a lot more often.” You offered apologetically, smiling at Bucky as he approached.</p><p> </p><p>Sam mouthed the words ‘more often’ to himself and threw a worried look at the two super soldiers.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, Gun? How many times have you blown yourself up?” Bucky asked nervously.</p><p> </p><p>“Only twice, maybe three times.” You shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Seven!” Clint yelled across the grass.</p><p> </p><p>“Nine.” Natasha called straight after.</p><p> </p><p>Busted.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh look, a… cloud.” You muttered, wandering away from the disbelieving and slightly concerned looks.</p><p> </p><p>“No, no cloud. Get back here.” Steve ordered you.</p><p> </p><p>You ignored him and broke into a jog.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun!” Steve barked after you.</p><p> </p><p>You sped up and started running away like you hadn’t heard him. Clint’s cackle of amusement at seeing someone else have to put up with your shenanigans echoed after you, masking the footsteps behind you. When you realised someone was following you looked over your shoulder. Steve was standing with his hands on his hips, head thrown back in exasperation and Sam was watching you with wide eyes and trying not to laugh. Bucky however, was rapidly catching up to you, even though he was only casually jogging. He raised his eyebrows challengingly at you and grinned almost ferally.</p><p> </p><p>You squeaked in surprise and fear and pushed yourself forward, breaking into a frenzied sprint, your feet barely touching the ground as you hurled yourself across the grass like the hounds of hell were at your heels. Actually, if the hounds of hell were after you, you’d probably stop and try and pet them, but that was beside the point. Your fight or flight instinct was in full effect, and you weren’t going to try hand to hand combat with a super soldier. If god forbid, you ever had to take on a super soldier, you’d do it with lots of weapons and you’d aim to kill, not wound. So unless you were prepared to shoot Bucky (you really weren’t) you had to run away.</p><p> </p><p>Except… Well, he didn’t know that you wouldn’t shoot him.</p><p> </p><p>When you felt him behind you, you came to an abrupt halt and sank to your knees. His arms swiped at the empty space where you’d been standing a millisecond before and by the time he looked down, he was looking straight down the barrel of the gun you had unholstered from your waistband and pointed at him. Rather than be annoyed (or impressed like you’d kind of hoped) he snorted mockingly and clasped his metal hand around the weapon and yanked it out of your grasp. You weren’t fazed, pulling a smaller pistol from your ankle holster with the opposite hand and aiming that at him instead, but again, he was unimpressed and took that from you with ease as well.</p><p> </p><p>“Damnit Barnes.” You grouched, holding your hands up in mock surrender and getting to your feet.</p><p> </p><p>“You have to do better than that, doll.” He grinned.</p><p> </p><p>“Noted.” You smirked, unsheathing the small knife you kept strapped along your forearm.</p><p> </p><p>A knife wasn’t going to do much against him, but while he was distracted with taking it from you, you were unholstering the long barrel pistol that was in a custom holster against your spine.</p><p> </p><p>“Where are you even keeping all these?” Bucky asked in disbelief as he rolled his eyes and took that from you as well.</p><p> </p><p>“Sweetheart, you don’t wanna know. But for the record, I’ve killed you like four times now.” You told him solemnly.</p><p> </p><p>“If this was a real fight you’d have been dead before it even started.” He argued.</p><p> </p><p>“If this was a real fight I would have used the grenade.” You rebutted.</p><p> </p><p>He froze and looked you up and down, trying to figure out if you were being serious or not.</p><p> </p><p>“You wanna pat me down, Sarge?” You asked faux innocently.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll make you a deal, doll. If you really have a grenade on you, I’ll concede. If you don’t, you have to admit you didn’t stand a chance.” He offered confidently.</p><p> </p><p>You sighed heavily in defeat as Steve and Sam jogged over casually, looking both amused and curious about the small pile of your weapons Bucky had tossed onto the ground next to you.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s going on here?” Steve asked.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun here was just about to admit she’s no match for me.” Bucky told him cockily, arching a brow at you and waiting for you to say it.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t wanna play with you anymore.” You grumbled, picking up your weapons and re-holstering them.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, I’ll be nicer to you than The Wiener Soldier.” Sam sniggered, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.</p><p> </p><p>You folded yourself into his side and childishly stuck your tongue out at a disgruntled Bucky.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on Buck.” Steve nudged, trying not to laugh.</p><p> </p><p>The two super soldiers started their run, but not before Bucky threw one last murderous glance at The Falcon who had you tucked away under his wing.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey, Sarge?” You called.</p><p> </p><p>He turned his head to look at you and brought his hand up just in time to catch what you threw at him. He looked down at the grenade in his hand - pin intact, and looked back up at you, gobsmacked.</p><p> </p><p>“You have a grenade on you?” Steve barked out, aghast.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh look… a cloud.” You drawled impishly, casually jogging backwards, grabbing Sam’s hand and tugging him along with you.</p><p> </p><p>Even as you turned and broke into a run, Sam by your side, you heard Steve’s loud groan.</p><p> </p><p>“That girl is trouble.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, yeah she is.” Bucky agreed in awe.</p><p> </p><p>“How many more grenades do you have?” Sam asked, putting some distance between you with a nervous glance.</p><p> </p><p>“Relax, handsome. You’re too pretty, I’d never blow you up.” You promised.</p><p> </p><p>“Uh, Gun? That wasn’t an answer.” He pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>You laughed loudly and pulled ahead, increasing your pace from a jog to a run. Natasha and Clint looked up as you ran past them, Nat shooting an amused smirk in your general direction.</p><p> </p><p>You smiled wide as you ran, despite the fact that you were exercising. It was day one of the rest of your life and it was off to a great start. You had old friends and new around you, and so far you hadn’t pissed anyone off, broke anything or screwed up. The day felt bright and filled with possibilities.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I really regret that I ever deleted this, and lost all the kudos and comments when I did. </p><p>It's scary as hell restarting this fic after all of the drama that caused me to end it, but I really want to go ahead with this. Hopefully some of you at least feel the same. </p><p>Please Kudos and comment if you can/want to. Xxx</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Barbed Vines</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“When you said you were going to give me a workout, this isn’t exactly what I had in mind.” You groaned.</p><p> </p><p>You were flat on your back, sweat dripping off of your skin, heaving for breath, and Steve Rogers was between your legs. This should have been heaven, but it was absolutely hell.</p><p> </p><p>“Ten more.” He commanded.</p><p> </p><p>“None more.” You bartered.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on, you can do it. I believe in you.” He cajoled.</p><p> </p><p>You’d already done… well you didn’t know how many sit-ups you’d done, because he just kept making you do ten more… and then another ten more… If anyone else tried this with you, you’d have kicked them in the face by now. Steve had a unique way of getting you to do what he wanted though.</p><p> </p><p>“Please?” He asked softly, beseeching you with his beautiful blue eyes.</p><p> </p><p>You just couldn’t disappoint Captain America. You couldn’t.</p><p> </p><p>“One…” You grunted, pushing your body upwards.</p><p> </p><p>He smiled victoriously and kept your feet planted on the gym floor while you finished yet another rep. As soon as you hit ten you crab crawled backwards, getting as far away from him and his dirty tricks as you could.</p><p> </p><p>“I am done. Done!” You gasped, rolling over onto your stomach and face planting the floor.</p><p> </p><p>You’d ran all around the grounds with Sam before Steve had tempted you into the gym to ‘test your stamina’ and made you do push-ups and sit-ups. You were tire, and very sore.</p><p> </p><p>“You lasted longer than I thought you would, I’ll give you that.” He said, dropping onto the ground next to you and sitting down.</p><p> </p><p>“You do realise I’m a shooter? I shoot things? I don’t need to be that strong or that fit to do what I do.” You harrumphed.</p><p> </p><p>“You never know what the situation will call for, what you’ll need to be capable of. It can’t hurt to train some more, work on your hand-to-hand…”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a lost cause.” You interrupted, rolling onto your side so you could look at him.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t need to be an expert, but you do need to be able to defend yourself if you’re a fully fledged Avenger.” He warned.</p><p> </p><p>“Define full fledged….” You frowned up at him.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p> </p><p>“How exactly are you envisioning my role here?” You pressed.</p><p> </p><p>“I… uh…” He stammered.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, lets make it easier. Aliens descend upon us, again, what do you picture me doing about it?” You asked.</p><p> </p><p>“That depends.”</p><p> </p><p>“On? You pressed.</p><p> </p><p>“Where the invasion is, whether there are civilians, where the rest of the team are…” He elaborated.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. There’s a Hydra base you need to infiltrate and take down, how am I being utilised?”</p><p> </p><p>“Why don’t you tell me how to ‘utilise’ you?” He grinned, catching on.</p><p> </p><p>“You send me in alone. What I do always ends up causing casualties, the only way to ensure your people don’t get caught up in it is to keep them away.” You shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>That was just the way it was, you rarely worked with others. You were most effective when you could use the full scope of your chaotic tendencies.</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t think you’re here to be a full member of the team.” He sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m like a reverse-janitor. You send me in to make a mess.”</p><p> </p><p>“The Hulk isn’t refined either, and he works well enough with us.” He pointed out.</p><p> </p><p>“Hulks a bullet-proof, fire-proof tank.” You argued.</p><p> </p><p>“Then we’ll pair you with Banner on missions…”</p><p> </p><p>“You… did you just play me?” You gasped.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re holding back Gun, and it’s not because you think you work better alone. It’s because you’re afraid of putting yourself out there only to be rejected. You think you wont be able to keep up with us, or you’ll scare us.”</p><p> </p><p>“You think you can read me that well after only knowing me a few days?” You smirked.</p><p> </p><p>“Nat and Clint briefed me, and I may have put a call in to a few people…”</p><p> </p><p>“Who? Fury?”</p><p> </p><p>“Sharon Carter and Maria Hill.” He corrected.</p><p> </p><p>That threw you for a loop. Hill knew things about you that most people didn’t, except Fury.</p><p> </p><p>“Agent 13? She pissed I’m alive?” You winced.</p><p> </p><p>She wasn’t exactly a close friend, but you didn’t want to risk pissing her off. The woman had a mean right-hook and she wasn’t afraid to use it.</p><p> </p><p>“She said she was surprised and yet unsurprised at the same time. She also said that you had a habit of going off book and breaking the rules, usually to rescue Agents that were in trouble.” He informed you, a tad smugly.</p><p> </p><p>Well, yeah… That was true. Sometimes a mission would go wrong and Shield couldn’t extract their agents. In those scenarios you figured you couldn’t actually make it worse, so you would go in. Usually without permission, and usually with stolen tech from the Strike team.</p><p> </p><p>“That only happened like twice.” You snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“Hill had a bit more to say…”</p><p> </p><p>“Anything interesting?” You asked casually.</p><p> </p><p>“That you’re rash, you don’t think, and you have no regard for your own safety. She also said that before your ‘death’ she had started sending you on more stealth missions. You keep saying that you’re not a spy, that you lack precision but your actions speak differently. You tracked down the formula, infiltrated AIM and had the foresight to make them think you were Hydra. You’re capable of a lot more than you admit to. I don’t know if you underestimate yourself or if you’re trying to make everybody else underestimate you but I see through it.”</p><p> </p><p>“I spent enough time around other Agents to pick up some tricks, but that doesn’t make me competent.”</p><p> </p><p>“Maybe not, but it does mean you’re capable of learning. You have a lot more potential and every single person who knows you thinks so.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why are you so sure about me?” You sighed. </p><p> </p><p>“Two team members who I trust believe in you. Fury went to a lot of trouble to bring you back into the fold and I don’t trust him but I trust he knows an asset when he sees one. I have never heard Hill talk about anyone the way she does about you. And Sharon said that you could have been one of the best agents Shield had, if you let yourself be.”</p><p> </p><p>“Ya know, this whole ‘I believe in you’ mentor shtick thing you’ve got going on is really adding to your sex appeal, Cap.” You purred, leaning forward with a predatory grin on your face.</p><p> </p><p>“Stop trying to distract me.” He admonished, unperturbed.</p><p> </p><p>“Why, is it working?” You smirked.</p><p> </p><p>He met your gaze, trying to maintain his sternness, and failing. The red flush on his cheeks coupled with the grin he was fighting down told you that it was indeed working.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re a menace.” He sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Now you’re starting to understand…”</p><p> </p><p>“Unless you’re planning to flirt with some aliens, I’d say it’s irrelevant.” He scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>And it might have been divine intervention, or it might have bee plain old fate, but there was a blinding flash from outside.</p><p> </p><p>“What was that?” You demanded, gun already in your hand.</p><p> </p><p>“Thor, he’s back from Asgard.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh. Oh! Thor’s an alien, right?” You grinned.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun…”</p><p> </p><p>You rushed out of the gym with a giddy smile, high-tailing it towards where The God of Thunder had landed.</p><p> </p><p>What you found was Clint, hurrying across the grass towards you with a worried expression.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun, we need to brief you before you meet Thor.” He said quickly, grabbing your arm and dragging you inside.</p><p> </p><p>“What’s going on?” Steve asked, hot on your heels.</p><p> </p><p>“Thor brought… company. I thought we’d have time to talk about it, but we need to brief Gun now. Send Nat in?” Clint explained with a stressed air.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, what’s going on? Get off me you weirdo.” You tutted, wrenching your arm away from him.</p><p> </p><p>“Captain! Barton! It is good to see you my friends! As agreed, I have brought my brother.” Someone very loud boomed.</p><p> </p><p>You turned around in horror, praying you weren’t about to see who you thought you were. Your prayers weren’t answered. The last person you ever though you would see with The Avengers was standing next to Thor.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun! No!”</p><p> </p><p>You hadn’t even realised you’d unholstered your gun until Clint disarmed you.</p><p> </p><p>“He killed Coulson!” You hissed, red clouding the edges of your vision.</p><p> </p><p>“There were extenuating circumstances.” Steve huffed, lending Clint a hand in wrangling you.</p><p> </p><p>They each had one of your arms tightly held in their grasp, holding you back. A perplexed Thor and an intrigued Loki watched it all unfold.</p><p> </p><p>“Who is this?” Thor asked nervously.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, who is this hateful little pet and why does she appear to be trying to murder me with her gaze?” Loki taunted, smirking at the unconcealed rage you were displaying.</p><p> </p><p>Even in your rageful state it didn’t escape your notice that Steve and Clint weren’t perturbed by Loki’s presence. In fact they were protecting him from you.</p><p> </p><p>“Thor, this is Gun. Gun, meet Thor. She’s a new recruit.” Clint huffed, catching an elbow to the gut and grunting.</p><p> </p><p>“What is he doing here?” You snarled, struggling like a hellcat to get free of your captors.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s…” Steve frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“He.. uh.” Clint added.</p><p> </p><p>“I am here to join The Avengers.” Loki announced smugly.</p><p> </p><p>“On a probationary period!” Steve added quickly when you stilled, shocked into giving up your struggle.</p><p> </p><p>That was when Thor saw an opening and approached, stepping between you and Loki with his hands raised to show he meant no harm.</p><p> </p><p>“Please, I am aware that my brother has caused much suffering in the past but he has changed.” Thor pleaded gently.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s a murderer.” You whispered hoarsely.</p><p> </p><p>You had never forgotten how you felt when you found out Phil Coulson had fallen to the psychotic god who had tried to wage war on the planet. When you had returned to Shield after all the drama, Nat had been the one to break the news to you, because Clint was too busy dealing with the fallout of what Loki had done to him.</p><p> </p><p>Was that what was happening here? Were The Avengers being manipulated?</p><p> </p><p>“The situation is more complicated than you realise, all I ask is the chance to explain. I give you my word that Loki means no harm, you are safe.” Thor continued.</p><p> </p><p>“Clint?” You asked, tilting your head to look at him.</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t look exactly <em>happy</em> about the situation, but he nodded tersely to indicate you should listen to Thor. A quick glance at Steve showed he felt the same.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine. Let me go, I’m not gonna hurt him.” You sighed.</p><p> </p><p>Steve didn’t let you go until Clint did, but they both remained close, especially when Loki let out a loud scoff of derision.</p><p> </p><p>“Should I fear the vengeful mortal?” He asked, making it clear he thought the answer was no.</p><p> </p><p>“If you’re half as smart as you think you are, then yes, you should.” Clint snapped.</p><p> </p><p>You were flattered he thought so highly of you, but you truthfully didn’t actually know what you’d been planning to do. Loki was a god…  </p><p> </p><p>“Someone really needs to explain to me what the hell is going on before I go back on my word.” You hissed.</p><p> </p><p>Hey, not having an actual plan had never stopped you before. You didn’t know how to take down a god, but you would find a way if you had to.</p><p> </p><p>Something you made sure Loki knew when you glared over you shoulder at him as you were shepherded inside. Far from look threatened by your display, he arched his eyebrow and regarded you with intrigue and speculation.</p><p> </p><p>You weren’t sure why, but his gaze sent shivers down your spine, like somebody had just walked over your grave.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Look who it is.... Ohhhhhhhhhhhh! </p><p>How do you think this is gonna go? Will Gun restrain herself? Will Loki make it worse? And is Gun ever going to find out that Coulson isn't dead?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Seeds Of Discord</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>~~~Elmer’s Asylum and Penitentiary For The Criminally Insane, Juvenile Ward – 11 Years Ago~~~</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Thwack</p><p> </p><p>841</p><p> </p><p>Thwack</p><p> </p><p>842</p><p> </p><p>Thwack</p><p> </p><p>843</p><p> </p><p>“You’ve got a visitor.” The Warden announced, his nasally voice reverberating around the cell, ricocheting off the stone walls.</p><p> </p><p>Thwack</p><p> </p><p>You stilled, letting the rubber-ball bounce into your palm. 844.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t get visitors.” You said coldly.</p><p> </p><p>It had been seven months and twelve days since your last visitor, a lawyer who had scurried out of the building in tears and never returned.</p><p> </p><p>“Well you’ve got one now. On your feet, against the wall.”</p><p> </p><p>Thwack.</p><p> </p><p>845.</p><p> </p><p>“Who is it?” You asked. </p><p> </p><p>“A new lawyer. An expensive one. Look like someone on the outside is trying to help you out, kid. You gonna let them?” The Warden asked, trying to pique your interest.</p><p> </p><p>That was a lie. Nobody on the outside gave a damn about you. They’d left you, abandoned you to this place.</p><p> </p><p>Until now. God, you’d been an idiot! Of course they had to leave you, they needed to make everyone think they didn’t care so they could get you out! You knew your family hadn’t forgotten about you.</p><p> </p><p>Thwack</p><p> </p><p>The ball bounced off the floor, rolling away as you leapt to your feet, hands in the air. As soon as you flattened yourself against the wall, The Warden unlocked the door and four guards marched inside.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t like it when she smiles.” One of them muttered, eyeing your grin uneasily.</p><p> </p><p>“Relax, I’m planning on behaving today. I’ve got a visitor!” You smirked.</p><p> </p><p>You didn’t even flinch when they snapped the metal cuffs around your wrists and ankles, you just stayed still and tried not to spook them.</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t want any trouble today, no kicking off, no tantrums. Understand?” The Warden ordered as he led you down the cold stone hallways.</p><p> </p><p>Instead of taking you to the little enclosed meeting rooms, they took you to the cafeteria/mess hall. </p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t decided what kind of mood I’m in yet.” You grinned.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m deciding for you. You’ve still got a chance at a life, kid. Don’t blow it.” He pleaded.</p><p> </p><p>That was a matter of opinion. A life? How boring. Why the hell would you ever want to settle down and be normal? And how the hell did these morons think that dangling a 9-5 job and a mortgage in front of you was a good tactic?</p><p> </p><p>“You’re not a juvenile for much longer, remember that. You’ll be transferred, and this guy might be able to stop your life taking that turn, so give it a chance.” The Warden pressed on, determined to make his point.</p><p> </p><p>“I will try my best not to psychologically scar this one, I promise.” You said sweetly,</p><p> </p><p>You and your little entourage stopped outside the cafeteria and The Warden gave you one last warning look before he nodded for your guards to continue. Your eyes zeroed in on the man in question as you were marched into the room, partially out of curiosity, partially to look for his weak spots. He was sat waiting calmly at a table in the centre of the hall, but stood up as you approached. He was nothing out of the ordinary, just your average suited lawyer. Expect his eyes. They were kind, much kinder than any lawyer you’d met.</p><p> </p><p>“We don’t need those.” He said briskly, gesturing to your chains.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, you do.” The guard sniggered.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m <em>scrappy</em>.” You announced cheerfully, sitting down with a satisfying thump on the chair opposite the lawyer.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve red your file, you are.” He agreed, grinning at you, before turning to the guards with a stern expression. “And she’s never attacked without some sort of provocation. I don’t intend to provoke my client, so you can remove them.”</p><p> </p><p>There wasn’t any room on his tone for argument, and you held your wrists up with a bright, cheerful grin.</p><p> </p><p>“You heard him boys.”</p><p> </p><p>The guards weren’t happy about it, but they did it anyway, unlocking the cuffs around your wrists and then your ankles.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s all.” Your lawyer said dismissively.</p><p> </p><p>As soon as your guards had slunk away, taking up their positions by the doors, the lawyer flipped your file open and slid it across the table to you.</p><p> </p><p>“You caused quite a lot of damage. Some would say an impressive amount. You really do that all on your own?” He asked.</p><p> </p><p>Your eyes flickered down to the photo’s in the file, and you shrugged, your expression utterly devoid of any and all traces of emotion.</p><p> </p><p>“I thought you were a lawyer? Why do you sound more like a cop?” You asked snidely.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ll let you in on a secret.” He grinned, leaning forward to whisper conspiratorially to you. “My name is Phil Coulson. I’m here to talk to you about Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s a mouthful.” You sneered.</p><p> </p><p>“I get that a lot.” He said with an amicable smile.</p><p> </p><p>He was one of those types. You hated those adults who swanned in with their sympathetic attitudes, thinking if they just befriended the poor little violent girl they could fix all your problems and make you all better.</p><p> </p><p>“So what’s the Strategic Homebody Interesting… whatever you called it, it some sort of rehabilitation program?” You scoffed.</p><p> </p><p>“In a manner of speaking. We’ve been known to take individuals with potential and give them an outlet, a purpose.”</p><p> </p><p>“Is this a religious thing?”</p><p> </p><p>“No. It’s a secret government agency thing.”</p><p> </p><p>Your eyebrows shot up, and you leaned forward, intrigued. Even if he was joking, or lying, he just got a hell of a lot more interesting. He noted your interest and leaned forward across the table to whisper to you.</p><p> </p><p>“Let me tell you about S.H.I.E.L.D, and how they can help you.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>~~~Avengers Compound - Today~~~</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>You didn’t like having a homicidal god at your back, but you didn’t have much of a choice.</p><p> </p><p>“If you’re being mind-controlled right now, blink twice.” You whispered, shooting a furtive look over your shoulder at Loki to make sure he wasn’t listening.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not being controlled, trust me. Besides, we have Wanda now, Loki would never be able to pull it off with her around.” Clint whispered back, patting you on the shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s still a killer. And a tyrant. And a brat.” You hissed.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re all of the above as well…”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m not a tyrant!” You objected.</p><p> </p><p>“Remember that time you were Captain of our laser tag team?” Clint snorted.</p><p> </p><p>Right… You’d shot half your own team to ‘cull the weak’, so maybe Clint had a tiny point. Only a tiny one though.</p><p> </p><p>Clint opened the door to what looked like a small lounge, and you planted yourself at the door defiantly, giving Loki a hard gaze as he walked inside. He ignored you, like the bitch he was.</p><p> </p><p>You didn’t trust Loki, even if everyone else seemed to be tolerating him. The fact that they appeared to trust him was the only reason you hadn’t tried to blow him up yet, but you definitely weren’t ruling it out as an option. He might have them acting all complacent, but you were wary, and you were remaining on high alert. The second he tried anything, the guns and grenades were coming out. You waited for Steve to go in before you followed, but he paused in the doorway.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait…” Steve commanded, turning to you with a wary look, “Hand over the grenades. And any other weapons.” He ordered you.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh come on!” You whined, pouting at him.</p><p> </p><p>He just shot you a patient but stern look.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine.” You huffed, handing over all the guns he’d seen earlier.</p><p> </p><p>He wasn’t fooled, and nodded for you to continue. You rolled your eyes and handed over the rest.</p><p> </p><p>“Seven guns, four knives and another grenade?” He listed off, slightly horrified, trying to hold them all in a pile against his chest.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes roamed over your body and you could see him mentally calculating how you had managed to hide all that under your workout clothes.</p><p> </p><p>“Custom made holsters, anti-chafing cream and years of practicing how to walk without accidentally getting a revolver up the…”</p><p> </p><p>“I get the point!” He quickly interrupted. “Is that everything?”</p><p> </p><p>“Yes.” You sighed.</p><p> </p><p>“Gun…”</p><p> </p><p>“God, you’re so bossy.” You snapped, leaning down and pulling your shoe off so you could remove the small flat dagger from under your insole.</p><p> </p><p>“There, happy now?” You asked sarcastically, adding it to the pile.</p><p> </p><p>“Happy isn’t exactly the word I’d use.” He responded, nodding for you to go through the door.</p><p> </p><p>You did, rolling your eyes at the now extremely speculative look you were getting from the Trickster, the wary look from Thor, and the bored look from Clint. Steve very, very carefully laid down your weapons on a small table, far out of your reach.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, I’m here, I’m unarmed, and I’m waiting. What’s the supposedly good reason we haven’t set him on fire?” You demanded, crossing your arms and turning your nose up at Loki.</p><p> </p><p>“Loki was himself being controlled during the events of New York.”</p><p> </p><p>Your eyebrows raised comically high at Thor’s blunt explanation.</p><p> </p><p>“Way to draw out the suspense big guy, where’s your sense of showmanship?” You snorted, buying yourself time to process what he’d said.</p><p> </p><p>If it was true, and it was a big if, then that almost absolved the poor bastard of his heinous crimes. Almost.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s true, we looked into it, really looked. Wanda and Vision confirmed it. Loki wasn’t acting of his own accord.” Clint confirmed, knowing he was the only person in the room you’d trust 100%.</p><p> </p><p>No offence to Steve, you liked him, you were prepared to trust him, but you still barely knew him.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, someone wammied him, like he wammied you?” You frowned.</p><p> </p><p>“Not quite.” Loki interrupted, “My ‘wammy’ as you so eloquently put it, was rather more intricate. My thoughts were not being influenced, but rather my emotions. Thanos used various… methods to ensure my cooperation, including using the sceptre to manipulate my emotions. My rage was amplified and my loyalty dampened. I could not openly defy him, so I orchestrated things as best as I could to ensure I, and Thanos, failed.” Loki explained, sounding kind of bored for someone who was explaining how he was traumatised into trying to take over a planet.</p><p> </p><p>“Who the fuck is Thanos?” You demanded.</p><p> </p><p>“He was a psychopath, hell bent on claiming the Infinity Stones and wiping out half of creation.” Thor supplied.</p><p> </p><p>“Right… So Thanos, who sounds like a bitch, is the real villain and you are innocent?” You clarified with a healthy dose of scepticism. </p><p> </p><p>Though, you were more inclined to believe it now that Loki had explained. If he was lying, why still take partial responsibility? Why not just say he had been completely controlled?</p><p> </p><p>“Thanos was the villain, the mastermind behind everything. He succeeded in his goal, though we are not living in that timeline, nor will we ever be.” Thor assured you.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh?”</p><p> </p><p>“It’s very complicated, and barely makes sense, I advise you not to worry about it. It’s the sort of thing best disregarded.” Loki shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, fine, but only because I’m dumb and it sounds like it would make my head hurt. You’re innocent, the real bad guy is gone, and you’re here because….”</p><p> </p><p>“He’s here to atone for his sins.” Steve said.</p><p> </p><p>“Thought you all just said he had no sins?” You sighed.</p><p> </p><p>At this point you were struggling to keep up.</p><p> </p><p>“He faked his death and impersonated his dad so he could be King of Asgard.” Clint informed you.</p><p> </p><p>You turned back to Loki with wide eyes.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait, you faked your death? Not cool.” You admonished.</p><p> </p><p>Clint turned his head to glare at you so quickly he probably gave himself whiplash.</p><p> </p><p>“Really?!” He snapped. </p><p> </p><p>Loki’s eye’s darted between the two of you, noting the scandalised look on Clint’s face and the shit-eating smirk on yours.</p><p> </p><p>“Can I have my stuff back now?” You asked Steve.</p><p> </p><p>“You going to anything stupid?”</p><p> </p><p>“Absolutely. But I could do that without my weapons, and I believe you about Tricky Dicky here.” You shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>Steve sighed, shaking his head in semi-mock disappointment, but he did wave at the pile of weapons in permission.</p><p> </p><p>“So, you accept my brother? You will trust him?” Thor asked, looking at you curiously now that you weren’t chomping at the bit to hurt Loki.</p><p> </p><p>“I do have one more question.” You admitted, sliding your knives back into place.</p><p> </p><p>“Ask it. We have nothing to hide.” Thor said eagerly.</p><p> </p><p>That was a terrible choice of words, though he didn’t know it yet. You smirked as you picked up a gun, pulling the trigger before you’d even lifted it off the table.</p><p> </p><p>It was too quick, too casual, and there was nothing anyone could do as the bullet whizzed through the air, heading straight for Loki.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ittle bittle baby Gun! What did you think of her? I tried to show her personality as we know it, but with a few hints of... other traits... </p><p>And modern day Gun doing the always hilarious 'where are you keeping all those weapons' trope?  </p><p>And don't worry about Loki, he's sturdy, he can take it! What I have planned for them... I promise, you'll enjoy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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